Fanfic Court Part 2: The Trial
by snooky-9093
Summary: You have been subpoenaed to appear as a witness in case # 0876707. The case is now on the docket and awaiting your testimony. This portion is COMPLETE. For the rest of the story head over to Bits and Pieces profile and click on Fanfic Court part 2B.
1. Chapter 1

"Bull?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Do you know why Weebles wobble but they don't fall down?" Harry Stone was intently staring at the little figures lined up on the front of his desk.

"No, Sir, but it's a catchy commercial."

"They don't make them like they used to, Bull."

"No, they don't, Sir."

"Aah, well." Harry cleared his desk. "They're here?"

"Yep!"

_Here we go again_. "Show them in."

"Okaay!"

Bull opened the door to Harry's chambers. "Commander Riker, Mr. Mason. The Judge will see you now."

Bull mouthed a quick, "Good luck!" to the judge as he showed the men in.

Harry motioned for the two of them to sit down.

"Well, gentlemen. Let's get this ball rolling again, shall we?" He pointed at Riker. "You first."

"It's getting drastic out there, Judge. Since the end of the hearing, we've had cave-in's, multiple character deaths, a very upset General, an unsettling turn of an event - where you think it's done, but it's not - and something so awful, so terrible, I can't even speak of it, sir." He choked.

"Uh, uh." Harry said. "So you want me to get this case expedited?"

"Yes, otherwise, who knows what will happen? And, sir, there have been more of them coming out of the woodwork, and some of them are doing two at once!"

"Mason, what's your take on this?" Harry asked.

"Well, I actually think everything's under control. It seems the characters are handling things well enough on their own…aren't they, Riker?" Perry turned and glared at the Starfleet officer. "In fact, the authors were shut out of the site recently, weren't they? What do you know about that?"

Riker gulped. "Nothing. I have no control over that stuff. Oh, I'm sorry to hear about the authors. Must have been…tragic."

**********

"Oh, boy." Carter said as he listened to the conversation between the Judge, Riker and Mason. The heroes had, of course, planted a bug in the Judge's office. It was located in the picture of Mel Torme that was hanging behind his desk. "Think, they'll find us out, Sir?"

"Don't know how," Hogan replied as he swept more dirt and dust from his hair. "From what I hear, it's hard to track computer mischief. But let's lay low for a while, just to be sure." He walked over to Olsen's bunk and checked on the Sergeant. For days now, Olsen had been almost catatonic. Recent events had taken a huge psychological toll on the normally cheerful chap, and he had now been reduced to curling up in his bunk with a security blanket; sympathetically knitted by Newkirk.

"Come on, Olsen. It's okay," Hogan murmured. "Look, Judge Harry and Commander Riker will help us. They're talking about going to trial."

"Not okay." Olsen turned towards the wall. "Too late, sir. I've had a sneak peak."

"Buck up, Sergeant! That's an order!" Hogan decided to try the military approach. _Sneak peak. What is he talking about? Whatever it is, it doesn't sound good._

Olsen sniffed, rolled over, and, blanket in hand, attempted to stand up.

"That's better," Hogan said. "Here, sit and listen in."

*********

Harry had decided to expedite the case and ordered an immediate start to the testimony, as soon as technical details could be worked out. He and Riker were discussing options, while Mason sat and sulked.

"Now, Commander, I recall that, due to planes of existence problems, the defendants could not be here to provide their testimony, correct?"

"That's true, Judge. But we've figured a way around the problem." Riker started a PowerPoint presentation. "It is common knowledge that witnesses can provide video testimony and not even show up to court. In this case, defendants and other prosecution witnesses will provide their testimony via e-mail."

"Interesting." Harry said. "So you guys will ask questions, they'll answer them, and then somehow it will get posted?"

"That's the gist of it, Judge."

"I don't like it," Mason complained.

"Well, what do you suggest?" Riker sneered. "Snail mail? Federal Express?"

"No," Mason responded. "It just doesn't seem right, that's all."

"Oh, I see," Riker said. "It's perfectly fine for these people to post their character angst all over the net, but when they have to answer for it the same way, suddenly it doesn't seem right."

"They have a right to face their accusers!" Mason was adamant. He wasn't known as one of the greatest defense attorneys of all time for nothing.

Mason was right and Riker knew it. Besides, if the perpetrators could see their victims in person…that could prove interesting. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "All right, Mason. We'll do it your way. I'll bring them in. But it's going to involve some hocus-pocus with our technology, and I have to warn you that, due to the complexity, we may be skipping from one side to another."

"I'm cool with that. Is that okay with you, Judge?" Mason asked.

"Hey," Harry reached for his gavel, which wasn't there. "Whatever works is fine with me. Let's just send out the subpoenas and get this thing moving. But, due to time constraints and the psychological anguish it will cause the characters, I won't have you rehash the previous testimony. That's already been put on the court record. This will be new testimony from other witnesses and the defendants. Got it?"

Riker and Mason agreed to the conditions and left to prepare. Harry, meanwhile, went back to contemplating his Weebles.

And this is where you come in. PM me if you are interested, and I'll send you my e-mail. (or check the yahoo group) Then send me your testimony and I will post your chapter. You can either testify as a defendant (most of you, I guess!) or as a prosecution witness. If you are a defendant, Mason will ask you questions and then Riker will do the cross-examination. If, however, you are appalled at the treatment given our beloved heroes, are just readers, or have only written nice stories and want to help take revenge on the writers, by all means do so. Riker will ask the questions first, and then you will be cross-examined by Mason. You come up with all the questions and answers. Feel free to include interludes, comments from the Judge, other characters, spectators, side-effects on the characters-whatever!!! Turn on each other, or help one another. You can do it! You're all talented!

Don't worry about Riker or Mason's characterization if you aren't familiar with Star Trek or Mason's character. Not an issue. Or bring in a guest attorney!

Don't forget to include your own original characters, if you wish.

Don't worry about following proper legal procedure or that stuff. Can't deal with that, after all this is just for fun!

The testimony will likely be out of order if I get testimony from both sides. I will not rehash previous testimony, you'll have to either recall what occurred in part one or go back and reread it. Any new stories posted can and will cause problems, if that's your choice. (cough, cough, hack, hack-someone call Wilson!)

If anyone wants to bring Kinch, Carter, LeBeau or Newkirk to the stand-be my guest!

Please proofread before sending!

Remember: Stand up for yourself!!!

Let's hope this works. I know. I'm nuts!


	2. Snooky's Remorse

"Hey, did I wake you up?" My sister was usually not coherent until after 9 in the morning.

"No, I'm up. I'm up."

"Good! I got it. You little devil!"

I heard Ruth cough into the phone. "What, what did I do?"

"It came this morning. Your joke! The fake subpoena! How did you do it? It's not even April 1st. I haven't laughed this hard in ages. My stomach hurts!"

"Honestly, Susan, I have no clue what you're talking about!"

"You didn't send it? I've been ordered to appear in a civil trial as a defendant. Something about abusing characters, pain and suffering, cease and desist. It's from the fan fiction site. Signed, 'theboysfrombarrackstwo.' My stories!" I start laughing again, this was so funny, I couldn't help it. I could hear Ruth cracking up on the other end.

"You've got to send me a copy of it! That's hysterical. Someone else must have sent it, maybe those women who edit your stuff?"

"That's a thought, but how? They don't know my last name and …."

And there I was. Sitting in a witness chair in a courtroom, looking up at…Perry Mason?

"Ma'am? You there? Ma'am, could you please state your pen name for the record?"

Who said that? Oh, Harry Stone from _Night Court_. The subpoena! I'm dreaming. Cool. I'll play along.

"My pen name is Snooky-9093!"

Titters erupted from the spectators. "Hey, that's not funny. It's my Dad's pet name for me."

"Please people, show some respect." Harry banged his gavel and turned to me. "Sorry, Ma'am. They're all a little loopy this morning." He pointed to the right side of the courtroom. I glanced over and was shocked to see the entire cast of _Hogan's Heroes_ taking up the first few rows of seats. Well, at least the Allied side. The Germans were seated on the left. But, something wasn't right here. They were all glaring at me. Frankly, their looks made me shudder. And why was Will Riker seated at the prosecution table?

"Mr. Mason, please question your witness."

"Ma'am. Could you please inform the court as to when you first became acquainted with this fan fiction site and how you became a serial poster?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Mason." I turned to the Judge. "Am I being charged with something? Because if I am, I'm not talking without having my attorney present." Actually, I don't have an attorney, and I've never even received a parking ticket, but it sounded good.

Mason, who was clearly exasperated, looked at me. "I'm your attorney, and didn't you read the subpoena?"

Okay, if this was a dream, Mason would not be my attorney, Riker would be on my side, Hawkeye Pierce would waltz in and take me dancing, and Andrew Carter would definitely not be looking at me like that.

"I read the subpoena." Now I was beginning to get slightly perturbed.

"Good, now can you please answer the question?" Mason turned and faced the courtroom. "And please speak up so everyone can hear."

Well of course I had to lower the microphone. Being only 4'10'', everything was always too high. I then started to recall the beginning of my forays into the fan fiction world. "Let's see. I found the site by accident, back in September, I think. I don't remember exactly what I was Googling, but it popped up and I was excited to find some of my favorite shows listed there."

"Like _Hogan's Heroes_?" Mason asked.

"No," I said sheepishly. "Actually, it was _MASH_. But I did notice _Hogan's Heroes_ and thought it would be fun to see if anyone had actually written a closing episode."

"So then what happened, miss? Can I call you miss?" Mason was now talking slowly and patiently and attempting to lead me on.

"Yes, I'm a Mrs., but you can call me miss, and well, I started reading the longer stories and I got hooked!"

Mason brought out a stack of paper. "Miss Snooky," More titters. Honestly, what was with these soldiers? "I have here a record of some of your postings. You started as a reader, but did not remain so, did you?"

"No, I started reviewing and posting on the forums and then, well, I wrote a story." I sat up straight. Yep, my first story. I was proud of that one! Nothing to be ashamed of.

"So, miss. You wrote and posted a story, and then what happened?"

"I got reviews?" I looked over at Hogan's side. The men were looking at me and talking amongst themselves, but I could somewhat hear what they were saying.

"That was a nice story, Mon Colonel, you have to admit that." LeBeau was attempting to brush some dirt off of Hogan's bomber jacket. Hogan was seated with his arms folded across his chest. He had a grim look on his face. "Look at those people you saved."

"I died."

"Well, sir," Newkirk said, "technically, yes, but it was just old age. Nothin' to get your knickers upset over or anything. I reckon some of us were also dead as well."

"She brought up a good point, sir. You have to admit that. And that ending." Kinch started to tear up, I could see it. "Touching."

Now even Carter was beginning to relax. "He's right, sir. I cried, you know. Brought back memories, that girl, the tunnels, boy, how you yelled at London…."

Hogan's face began to soften. He leaned forward in the bench and looked at me. Intently. I was too mesmerized to look away. Those eyes. You could hear a pin drop and then I started to feel flushed, really flushed.

"I got reviews." I repeated softly.

Mason tried to bring me back into focus. "Yes, you did. And they were wonderful by the way. How did you feel after these reviews?"

"I was on a high all weekend, Mr. Mason."

"And then, miss, you wrote again; about a search for some ice cream." Oops, Carter started glaring at me again. What was with that kid? And that was weird, because looking at him, here, rather than on TV, that's what he was. Odd.

"Yes." I laughed. "I had fun with that one!"

"I liked that one," said Harry. "Reminded me of a _MASH _episode. Very cute."

I turned to the judge. "You read it?" He nodded. "Thanks. I did get the idea from MASH."

"Miss, please pay attention. Did you get more positive reviews?"

"Yes, Mr. Mason, I did."

"So, you wrote again, didn't you?"

_Oh, man. I think I know where Mason is going with this. Play along. _"Yes, I did. I started with chapter stories next."

"Did you have to shoot me for crying out loud?" This outburst came from Carter.

"I'm sorry; I had to get you back to camp!" I replied. "Lieutenant!" I added for good measure.

"Sergeant, Lieutenant, whatever you are!" Harry banged his gavel. "I'll have you forcibly removed from this courtroom, if you don't shut up."

"She has it in for me," he muttered. Hogan grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back into the seat.

"At least she pays attention to you." LeBeau was in a huff.

"You wouldn't want that kind of attention, Louis. My throat still hurts."

"Quiet! Or I'll send you all to the cooler when we get back to camp." That threat came from Klink, who was seated on the other side of the courtroom, next to Burkhalter, Hochstetter and Schultz. Hochstetter was staring at me, and frankly, it was making me a bit uneasy, no, frightened was more like it.

Mason attempted to restore order and asked another question. "You started writing chapter stories, ones about dreams, I see, and a few nice entries on leaving camp. This is quite a lot of work in what, a few months, wouldn't you say? Why did you continue at this pace?"

I thought for a second. Why? Ah, an epiphany. "Well, it was fun, but I have to say, it relieves stress. I don't watch TV much. There's nothing on anymore. Oh, wait, I did order the DVD's. My husband and I watch them together. And I've met some really nice people, on-line, you know." And then a thought occurred to me. "There's one other thing, Mr. Mason. I'm a little embarrassed to say it, though."

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"I can't stop. It's addicting."_There I said it. It's addicting._

"Aha! It's addicting." Mason turned to the jury.

I turned to the jury. I hadn't noticed them before. Not a jury of my peers, although this being a civil trial, I didn't know if that applied. No, it actually looked more like a jury made up of other fan fiction characters. All right, I was toast.

"You see, ladies and gentlemen. These charges are not based in fact. She can't help what she's doing. She's addicted."

"Hey, wait one minute, Mr. Mason. I'm not an addict. I can stop if I want. I just don't want to. It's not hurting anyone. I mean, my back hurts sometimes, but other than that …" I had realized that Mason was going to head in this direction, blame my addiction, use that to get me off, but at the last minute, I just couldn't go with it. No way. It's not me. I had to stand up for myself or I wouldn't be able to face my kids.

Mason looked at me. "What are you doing?" he whispered. "You're screwing up your own defense."

"But, I'm not addicted. And I didn't do anything!" I turned to Harry. "Judge, he's painting me as something I'm not. Make him stop. I've never been addicted to anything in my life. Really!"

"You tell him ma'am!" This came from an unidentified soldier sitting in the third row. _Who's he?_

"Sorry, Snooky. This is your appointed attorney. You get what you pay for_." _Harry chuckled.

"Snooky," Mason looked disgusted. "Why did you continue writing these stories and why do you think you've done nothing wrong? The plaintiffs claim they've been hurt."

"I saw the potential for drama. And others did it. Those were the stories I first read. They were my inspiration! And I didn't know it would hurt anyone, how could I?" It was at this point that I noticed something. It was Olsen. He was sitting in the second row, right behind Hogan, and he was holding a blanket. He looked awful, like he had seen a ghost. Hogan now had little beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead and he was occasionally coughing. And Newkirk? What was with him? He was shivering. Kinch was holding on to him, attempting to warm him up, I guess. "Um, how could I have known? It's just fiction. Isn't it?"

"No," Mason said quietly. "There's no way you could have known. No way. Your witness, Commander Riker."

Riker stood up and walked over to my chair. I was now attempting to hide my nerves. It was only a matter of time before my shaking would become noticeable. It was not a serene scene. I was sitting in a courtroom full of make-believe characters who, for some unknown cosmic reason, seemed all-together too real. Some of these characters were Nazis, and the ones who I would go to for protection were obviously against me. Not only that, but they were not down in their tunnels with their guns and radios, they were grouped together and being watched over by guards. To make matters worse, half of them looked sick. Ah, but Riker. I was at least comfortable with this. After all, I've seen every single Star Trek episode, every Star Trek movie, and I've lost count of the Star Trek novels I've read. So what if he was the prosecution. What could he do to me? Sneak around to the back of my head and turn me off?

The Commander flashed me a nice smile. I smiled back and waited.

"You claimed in your testimony, miss, that although you found the process of posting on this fan fiction site addictive, you weren't actually addicted?"

"Yes, that's correct," I answered nervously. "I think there's a difference. Like being dependent on a drug versus addicted."

This seemed to confuse the Commander for a split second. "You mean you're dependent on writing?"

"I'm under a lot of stress right now, and it helps relieve the pressure," I answered. "But, it's also fun."

"Stress, what kind of stress?" Riker asked.

"Objection!" Mason shouted it so loudly, I almost jumped. "The type of stress is irrelevant."

"Sustained." Harry said.

Riker pouted , while I let out a nervous giggle. "All right, so you are writing to relieve stress, while at the same time, taking this stress and morphing it into angst that has befallen these poor characters."

"Angst?" I asked. "I don't think I've labeled any of my stories as angst. In the category portion I mean. I usually stick with plain drama, I think." I paused and screwed up my forehead. I was having a brain freeze and couldn't exactly remember how many stories I had actually written.

"Yes." Riker grabbed a disc and showed it to the judge. "Don't worry, I can remind you, Miss Snooky. We have two dramas, one general, three humors, and, Judge, one horrible tragedy."

_Oh, no._ I started sinking down into my chair, all the while stealing a glimpse at Hogan and his men. Had it hit them yet?"Soul Survivors" It must have. Otherwise, why would Olsen be a basket case? "Out the Front Gates!" So, that's why Hogan looked sick. I had given him pneumonia to show that many of the prisoners were suffering before liberation, but the story wasn't finished. He didn't know he'd get better. Somehow, they were living everything I had written. Did it happen with the other writers as well? No wonder Carter hated me. I had given him tonsillitis and had him shot to move a plot forward. Even worse, I had killed every single one of these guys off. And there was Burkhalter and Hochstetter, sitting on the other side, looking all smug and full of themselves. Of course, they would. They finally caught the most dangerous man in Germany. Or I had them catch him. But what was going on? It was obviously like their own perverted version of Groundhog Day. Suffer the consequences and then bounce back. I felt bad, really bad.

"Um, Commander? I'm not the only writer charged, am I?" I couldn't be. There were others who had done a lot worse.

Harry answered. "No, Ma'am. But now you are on the stand. They are irrelevant for now. Commander, please continue."

Riker obviously knew he had struck a nerve. It was obvious from my body language. "Ma'am why would you go from a nice little story about saving a Jewish family to this, this …outrage! You killed them all! Why?"

I could hear Olsen sobbing. Many of the prisoners had turned pale, and Hogan and Burkhalter were engaged in a stare-down of unmitigated proportions. I couldn't answer. The ramifications of what I had done finally hit me. So I did what any middle-aged, middle-class mother of two caught up in a weird science fiction type universe scenario would do. I started to cry.

"Ma'am?" Riker looked at the Judge. Harry shrugged, grabbed a tissue and handed it to me.

I took it, blew my nose and continued my sobbing, while I tried to talk. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I wouldn't have done it, if I had. Colonel Hogan, I'm so sorry…" More tears. So much for defending myself. What a wuss. They'll probably take my house and bankrupt me so I could pay the damages.

"Oh, for God sakes." I looked up to see Mason heading over to the Judge's stand. "Can I plead temporary insanity for her, Judge? She's lost it."

I didn't really like Mason. I much preferred Commander Riker, even though he was the prosecution. At the moment, he was trying to console me by giving me a hug.

"You all right?" he asked. "Think you can continue?"

I gulped a few times and nodded my head. "I think so, but I'm not insane."

Riker smiled. "No, Ma'am, and thank you. The court appreciates your honesty." He turned around and glared at Mason. "Let's go back to my previous question. Why this progression? What did these characters ever do to you? You claim you enjoy the DVD's. Wasn't that enough? Couldn't you tell from those episodes that they weren't equipped to deal with these circumstances? Why?"

Okay, Susan. Pull yourself together and think. I felt bad, but I was obviously in trouble. I didn't mean it, but they were obviously hurt. I wanted a Papa Bear Award! Oh, yeah brilliant. Give Riker another opening. Not a good answer. Sounds selfish. My Dad's a veteran. What does that have to do with it? Nothing, actually. I enjoy hurting and torturing people? Not really. I take insects out of the house, rather than kill them. Although, technically, I didn't torture anyone, yet. Oh, no.! What if they had seen my unfinished saga in my word processor. I could turn on the other writers. They started it, didn't they? Hmmm. I put that in the back of my mind.

"I was trying to show the effects of war, Commander." How lame, but I couldn't think of anything else.

"That excuse?" Harry said. "Boy, we heard that in the hearing, over and over."

"Hey! You're supposed to be impartial!" I glared at the judge. At this point, he was his character from the 80's and a lot younger. He didn't scare me.

"I don't think that excuse is going to fly, Ma'am. There are other gentler, kinder ways to deal with that issue. It could have been done without hurting the characters." Harry was clearly not interested in impartiality at this moment. It may have been because Hogan, Kinch and Newkirk had now collapsed on the floor. "What now?" Harry asked.

"They can't breathe, Monsieur." LeBeau was rushing back and forth. _What was he looking for?_

"Hey, I had nothing to do with that!" I shouted. "Looks like someone else posted something. Don't blame me."

"Snooky!" Riker tried to get my attention, which was difficult, considering the commotion. "You claim you were trying to show the effects of war? Is that all you have to say to defend yourself?"

I sighed. I couldn't go after the others. They had been too nice. Hopefully, they'll stick to their guns on the stand and get us all out of this mess. "Yes, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, but that's my final answer."

Riker looked at me. He was clearly exasperated. So was Mason. But what could I do? I wasn't thinking straight. I had no time to prepare. After all, I was just minding my own business, drinking a cup of coffee, when the doorbell rang.

"I'm done with her, Judge, but I request permission to recall. Can I call the next witness?"

"Suit yourself, Commander Riker." Harry looked down at me. "Ma'am, you can go home or stay here and watch the trial. It's up to you."

I thought for a second. My daughter was at her play rehearsal til 8. "I'll stay. I have until 5:00 pm. That's when my husband comes home."

"That's fine," Harry said. "Sit over there." He pointed to the right side of the courtroom. There were several seats next to the wall, a few yards away from the Allies. Sniffling, I got up from the witness stand and took my seat, wondering who was going to be next on the chopping block.


	3. Bits and Pieces is not Glad all Over

Bits and Pieces on Trial

A/N: I don't know what to say about this; just that, I hope you get a chuckle out of it!

* * * * * *

_I've got to get this chapter done! _She thought to herself, while trying for the umpteenth time to figure out how to word the paragraph that she was currently working on. And now the dog wanted out, again! _What is this, the fifth time in the last ten minutes? _She got up to open the back door for her big, smelly, shedding, walking carpet of a pet, Chewie. He bounded out into the yard, barking furiously, upsetting the squirrels and sending them fleeing in terror. She stood at the door and watched, shaking her head, and then grinned; suddenly finding the whole thing rather amusing.

Just then the doorbell rang, and she went to answer it. A man stood there, envelope in hand, wearing some kind of delivery uniform.

"Yes?" She asked, a bit apprehensively.

"I have a special delivery letter here for," he squinted to read the name, "Bits and Pieces."

"Oh, that's me," she answered, "But you can call me Janet."

The man looked at her and raised his eyebrow slightly. "Yes, well, you need to sign for this." He held out the clipboard and a pen.

As Janet took it from him and started to scribble her signature on the paper, she remarked, "I don't know who would send me a letter using my pen name; except maybe my husband. This isn't from Africa, by any chance, is it? He's in Djibouti."

The man was only half listening. All he knew was that he heard something about a booty. "He's in what?" He asked, surprised.

"Djibouti, Africa. You know, Eastern side, Horn of Africa? He's stationed there right now. He's actually in the Navy, but he got snagged for I.A. - that stands for Individual Augmentee – and he'll be there for six more months, and…"

"Look, lady," the man interrupted as she handed the clipboard back to him, "I don't know where the letter's from, I'm just here to deliver it to you." _Why do I always get the crazies?_

"Oh, yes, of course, I didn't mean to ramble on like that. I don't get out much, obviously!" Janet chuckled nervously.

The man just looked at her and handed her the letter.

"Thank you," Janet said, feeling rather embarrassed by now.

"Uh, yeah, you're welcome." The man responded. As he turned to walk away, he couldn't help thinking to himself, _I've got to find a new job!_

Janet closed the door, and then examined the letter that she was holding in her hands. She slid her finger in by the top of the envelope, and carefully tore it open. Then she pulled out the paper inside, unfolded it, and began to read. About halfway down, she realized what it was; a subpoena! She was being ordered to show up in court! But, for what? She read through the rest quickly…pain and suffering? Public embarrassment and humiliation? An order to cease and desist? And at the bottom, it was signed by, "theboysfrombarrackstwo." Could it be? Could this be from the Fanfiction site?

Suddenly there was a, "Whoosh!" And the next thing Janet knew, she was sitting in a courtroom full of people, and standing right in front of her was…Perry Mason!

* * * * * *

"Ma'am? Are you all right?"Perry Mason asked, concerned.

Janet blinked a few times, and then her eyes scanned the courtroom, and she realized it was true…she was in Fanfic Court! And seated on the witness stand! She looked out into the room, and instantly recognized the characters from Hogan's Heroes seated in the front rows of the spectators' area. The Allies were on the right, and the Germans were on the left, just like in the story! Only now there was a jury in the jury box. She didn't recognize any of them at first glance, but they looked suspiciously like other fanfic characters. _Oh, this isn't good! _She thought to herself, wondering if there was any way she could get out of this. Just then she heard Mr. Mason speak again, and realized he was talking to her.

"Ma'am, I know this must come as a bit of a shock to you, but you're the next defendant to take the stand here in Fanfic Court."

"I am?" Janet squeaked out.

"Yes, ma'am. You are, 'Bits and Pieces', correct?"

"Well, yes,"

"And you've written some stories for the Hogan's Heroes fanfic site?"

Janet swallowed hard. "Yes, I did."

"And you are aware, are you not, of the trial that's taking place involving the writers on that site?"

"Well, of course I'm aware of it, but, why am I being charged? I mean, I'm a fairly new writer, and I haven't written nearly as many stories as a lot of the other authors…of course, that's partly because I write so slow. And I really don't think I've done too much damage to the characters, if that's why I got pulled in here, and besides, aren't you supposed to be my attorney? So you know I haven't done anything wrong…"

Newkirk, who was sitting in the front row next to Hogan, turned to him and whispered, "She's the one, what likes to write about me, gov'nor."

"Oh, she writes about the rest of us," Hogan answered, his voice just above a whisper. "I'm a big part of her stories, too, you know."

"Yeah, but I always seem to get the worst of it, don't I?"

Hogan smiled. "You do, don't you? Well, at least that gives me a break from being the one getting hurt; which is most of the time!"

Newkirk noticed that she was still talking. "Quite the chatterbox, isn't she?" He remarked, "Reminds me of someone we know."

Carter, who had overheard Newkirk, and was seated behind him in the second row, leaned forward and said quietly, "I don't think she talks too much."

"You wouldn't!" Newkirk shot back.

Back on the stand, Janet was still trying to talk her way out of being questioned. "…So you see, I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding, so if you don't mind, I think I'll just be going now…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am," Judge Harry Stone cut in, "But I'm afraid you can't leave until you finish your testimony. Those are the rules."

Janet sighed in resignation. "Well, all right."

At last, Mason could begin his questioning. "Now then, Ms. Bits and Pieces…"

"Oh, please, call me Janet." She said, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

Mason nodded at her, and started again. "Now then, Ms. Janet, let's start with what prompted you to begin writing in the first place."

Janet took a deep breath. "Well, two years ago, my husband got sent away to a Navy school for two and a half months. I needed something to do to occupy my free time, so I started renting the DVD's of Hogan's Heroes, and quickly became hooked. Then, I found the fanfic website, and discovered all the wonderful stories that were posted there."

"Is that when you began to write your own stories?"

"No, not right away. After my husband came back, he was home for four months, and then his ship went on deployment to Africa for seven months. It was during that time that I started trying to write; I needed something to keep my mind off of him being gone."

"And when did you start posting your stories?"

"Not until he'd returned. It took me a while to work up the courage."

There were murmurs of sympathy and understanding from the crowd gathered inside the courtroom. Mason felt confident that he was on the right track.

"So, you started writing to ease your loneliness, is that correct?"

"Objection!" Commander Riker, who was prosecuting the case, called out. "Her reasons for putting these characters through pain and suffering are immaterial."

"Overruled," Harry stated. "I, for one, would like to know why these writers create these stories, and why they like to fill them with angst and drama."

Mason smiled. "Ms. Janet, please answer the question."

"Well," she replied, "I guess that's part of the reason. But it also gives me a sense of accomplishment, you know? And, well, when I receive good reviews, I must admit, it does boost my self-esteem. It lets me know that I've been able to entertain the readers, and that maybe I am good at something, Well, at least, fairly good; certainly not as good as a lot of the other authors on there!"

"So that's the reason you write?"

"That, and, well, it's really fun!" Janet chuckled.

Mason turned to look at Harry. "Judge, this woman is just a poor, lonely housewife, trying to keep her spirits up, and her mind off of the fact that her husband is so far from home. Not to mention the fact that she's found something that she enjoys doing. Besides, she hasn't done anything too terrible to these characters, anyway." He waved his hand in the direction of Hogan and the men seated around him, "I say she's innocent." Then he turned to Riker. "Your witness, Commander."

Riker walked up and looked at Janet; a polite smile on his face. "So, Ms. Janet, you claim that your stories haven't caused too much damage to the Hogan's Heroes characters, is that correct?"

Janet was starting to look nervous again. "Yes, that's correct."

"I see. Well then, would you be so kind as to tell us about the first story you posted?"

Janet looked at him, suddenly realizing where this was going, and said, "Um, I'd really rather not bring that one up here, if it's all the same to you."

"But that's why we're here, isn't it?" Riker responded coolly. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," he said, turning to address them directly, "I must inform you that this author's first story was what is known on the fanfic site as, slash."

There were audible gasps heard throughout the courtroom as that tidbit of information sank in. Riker turned back to Janet. "Now, would you care to tell us why you would write a story like that? And then post it?"

Hogan and Newkirk looked at each other, and then looked away quickly; both of them blushing furiously.

Janet sat there for a moment, stunned, not knowing what to say. Suddenly she blurted out, "You don't know what it's like, having your husband gone for months at a time! I just get so…frustrated…"

Riker looked at her, incredulously, "Is that why you write stories like that?"

Janet, her face turning bright red, blurted out, "No, that's not it! Not really, I mean, there's more to it than that," she took a deep breath, and then started again, "I would like to say, in my defense, that after watching all six seasons of the series on DVD, I couldn't help noticing that Hogan put his hands on Newkirk an awful lot. I guess it just…gave me ideas, that's all."

Newkirk looked back at Hogan. "She's right, sir," he whispered, "You do put your arm around me quite a bit, don't you?"

"But I do that to everyone!" Hogan whispered fiercely back.

"You do it to me more, gov'nor," Newkirk replied.

"Trust me, Newkirk," Hogan responded, sounding annoyed, "I'll never get _that_ lonely…" He tapered off as his expression changed, and he started to lose himself in Newkirk's brilliant green eyes…

Hogan shook his head. _What's happening to me?_

_Uh, oh,_ Janet thought, realizing that they must have gotten into her Word files, "Look, I already decided that I wouldn't post that one, okay? I promise!"

Both Hogan and Newkirk looked over at her, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Riker was still not satisfied. "However you got the idea for your story, that still doesn't explain why you felt compelled to post it."

Janet looked at him, defiantly. "Well, there is an audience for that sort of thing, you know! Besides, it wasn't just 'slash', it had a lot of humor in it."

"I see." Riker conceded. "But what about your other one? The one on the M-rated page…"

_Oh, no! Please don't go there!_

"Objection!" Mason shouted. "This subject has been covered enough."

"Sustained," said Harry.

"Very well." Riker changed tactics. "You claim that you didn't do any serious harm to these characters. Yet, you did give Corporal Newkirk amnesia, didn't you?"

Janet looked rather relieved to be switching subjects. "Well, that's not that bad, is it? I mean, he got his memory back eventually."

"Not that bad?" Newkirk now spoke up loudly. "Do you want to feel the bump on the back o' me 'ead? And 'ow about 'avin' to listen to Carter yammerin' on at me for two days? I'd consider that cruel and inhuman punishment, I would!"

"Now, wait just a minute, pal!" Carter exclaimed angrily, "I was only trying to help you out! If that's how you're going to thank me, well, then, don't expect me to help you the next time you're in trouble!" Then he looked at him smugly. "And you know there's going to be a next time, don't you?"

"Yeah," Newkirk now looked over at Janet, "I know." He folded his arms and sat there, glowering at her.

Janet started to whither under his intense stare. _Oh dear, he knows I'm not going to stop writing about him, doesn't he?_

Harry banged his gavel. "Corporal Newkirk! Sergeant Carter! I must ask you both to be quiet, or I'll have you removed from the courtroom. Is that understood?"

Newkirk and Carter looked at him sheepishly. "Understood, sir."

"Okay, then." Harry replied. "Please, continue, Commander Riker."

"Yes, well, it looks like you also had Newkirk kidnapped, and he ended up getting roughed up by some SS General, isn't that so, Ms. Janet?" Riker stated.

"But I created a good character in that story, also!" Janet exclaimed, trying to redeem herself. "I gave Newkirk a new friend, not to mention a new contact in the Gestapo! That has to count for something, right?"

Suddenly Major Hochstetter leaped to his feet. "What?" He shouted. "You created a spy for them? Who is he? What's his name? I have to report this!"

Judge Stone banged his gavel. "Major Hochstetter, sit down and be quiet!"

Hochstetter shut up and took his seat, glaring at Harry.

"Major Hochstetter," Harry continued, "Now, you've been warned several times. One more outburst like that, and I'll have to hold you in Contempt of Court. Understood?"

"Understood," Hochstetter growled, obviously still seething.

"That's better," Harry stated. "Commander Riker, please continue."

Riker smiled and resumed his questioning. "All right, I'll give you that one." He acquiesced, "But what about your new story? You gave poor Newkirk there hypothermia!" He said, pointing at the Corporal.

All eyes turned to Newkirk, who was now shivering uncontrollably. LeBeau, who was also seated in the second row, threw a blanket over him from behind, and Hogan started to put his arm around him in an attempt to warm him up. But Newkirk shot him a glance, and pulled away, preferring to sit by himself.

"But he's better now!" Janet explained excitedly. "I posted my second chapter on that one already!"

"That's right, you did, didn't you?" Riker seemed a bit confused. He noticed that Newkirk didn't have the blanket wrapped so tightly around himself anymore.

On the German side, Schultz leaned forward and said to Klink, "I like how she writes me, Herr Kommandant. I'm such a nice man!"

Klink glanced at the Sergeant and snapped, "Oh, shut up!"

"I don't like how she writes me," Hochstetter mumbled, still fuming, "She makes me look like an idiot!"

General Burkhalter smiled and leaned back in his seat. "That's because you _are _an idiot, Major." He replied.

"Look," Janet had had just about enough of all this. "At least I never tortured any of these guys, or killed them, for Pete's sake!"

"Oh, no?" Riker knew he had her now. "What about the latest oneshot you posted? Describing Newkirk's thoughts before their execution?"

The entire courtroom gasped as one. Janet looked over, and saw Newkirk sobbing hysterically. "But…that wasn't my story!" She shouted adamantly, "That was Snooky's story; blame her! I just…filled it in a little, that's all!"

"It was still your writing, wasn't it, Ms. Janet?" Riker replied quietly.

Janet looked like she was about to cry. "Yes," she answered at last, "It was my writing."

"I have no further questions, your honor." Riker stated.

"Very, well, Commander Riker," Harry said, and then turned to Janet. "Ms. Janet, you can go home now if you want to. But remember, you will have to return for the verdict, and the court can call you back here at any time if it's deemed necessary. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, sir! I understand completely!" She closed her eyes and breathed a huge sigh of relief…glad that it was over; at least, for now

* * * * * *

Janet opened her eyes, and suddenly realized that she was back home again. She heard a loud scratching on the back door, and immediately went to let her dog, Chewie, in. As she sat down on the chair near the computer, Chewie circling her happily, his tail rotating like a helicopter blade, she couldn't help thinking to herself; _I'm never, ever, signing for letters addressed to my pen name again!_

9


	4. Trial of 96 Hubblespart 1:The defense

_Disclaimer: Okay, before I get called up for another crime, the only person I own here is myself. All others belong to various corporate conglomerates in Hollywood. _

**Trial of 96 Hubbles - Part I - The Defence**

The courtroom of Judge Harold T. Stone was filled with the buzzing conversations of dozens of people; besides the numerous defendants and witnesses on the call sheet, there also seemed to be a growing number of plaintiffs, as well as general gawkers. Harry was doing paperwork at his bench when he saw Selma escorting in the first defendant.

"Don't worry, honey," Selma soothed the defendant with a companionable squeeze on the forearm as she brought her in, "You're in good hands."

"Thanks, Selma," the defendant smiled gratefully before taking her seat at the defence counsel's table.

"Those two seem chummy," Judge Harry observed to Dan as the prosecutor brought over a file for him to look at.

Dan smiled to himself the same way he always did when he thought of something lecherous . "Let's just say Selma… _appreciates_ the guest counsel the witness has brought in to defend her."

"What? The witness isn't using Mr. Mason? But he's the greatest defence attorney in the entire world! He's never lost a case!"

"The witness felt that Mr. Mason's main strength in getting the accused off is his ability to trick the real guilty person into confessing on the stand."

"So what's the big deal with that?" Harry asked.

"The witness argued that that's impossible when practically _everyone_ is on trial," Dan commented.

Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I take it the witness is pleading insanity."

Dan, leaning nonchalantly on Harry's bench, turned to glance contemptuously towards the doors to the courtroom. "Her choice of counsel alone might make the case for her."

Harry paused in signing a file and looked in that direction. "That him there opening the door and doffing his hat for Phil and the Wheelers?" he asked.

"Yes sir, that's him. Doorman Do-right."

Harry sighed. "Well, let's get him down here and get this show on the road." He raised his voice and directed it towards the man in the maroon uniform coat and black jodhpurs with the yellow stripes down each side, "If the counsel for the Defence could take his position."

"My apologies, your honour," the extremely handsome man answered and quickly took his place.

At the signal from Harry, Bull announced, "All rise! Criminal Court Part II, City of New York, is now in session. Case number 0876707. The honourable Harold T. Stone presiding."

"Would the counsel for the defence care to introduce himself to the court?"

"Thank you kindly, your honour. I am Constable Benton Fraser, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I first came to the United States on the trail of the killers of my father, and for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, I have remained. I am currently attached as a Deputy Liaison with the Canadian Consulate in Chicago. The witness, being a Canadian citizen, has requested my presence due to - "

"Uh, that's fine, Counsellor," Harry interrupted. "No need to go into such detail." Then Harry noticed something. "Maybe I spoke too soon, Counsellor. I do need information on one thing: is that your _dog_ sitting under the defence counsel's table?"

"No sir. Diefenbaker is a wolf - " Constable Fraser ignored the sudden rising and backing away of everyone in the courtroom except for himself, the defendant, and a balding man wearing a leather jacket and a police badge sitting in the first row of the gallery, and continued, "And I believe he would strenuously object to the idea that I own him."

"Geez, Benny, I coulda told you that would happen," the balding man said, referring to the court's general panic.

"Not to worry, sir," Fraser said, addressing the judge, "He won't harm anyone."

"Won't he react to the noise of the courtroom?" Harry asked, still standing a few feet away from his chair and not daring to take his eyes off the whitish-grey beast starring placidly back at him.

"No, your honour, Diefenbaker is deaf. The noise will not affect him at all."

"Oh, well that makes all the difference, doesn't it?" Dan said sarcastically. However, he edged extremely carefully around his table before approaching the bench.

"Uh huh…" Harry murmured, but he sat down, determined to start the session. "You're up, Defence. Call your first witness."

"Thank you kindly, your honour. My first witness is Miss 96 Hubbles."

A tall woman with short brown hair and glasses approached and took the chair at the temporary stand which had been set up. (1)

Bull came over and faced the witness. "Raise your left hand and place your right hand on this."

"_The Mammoth Book of Exciting Fishing Stories_?" the defendant asked.

"We lost our Bible," Bull explained. Harry shot a look at Dan Fielding; the judge highly suspected said article had played a part in Dan's rumoured "Naughty Night of Bible Heroines" party last month.

After the witness had been sworn in, Constable Fraser began.

"Your honour, the main charge against my client is of intentionally causing both physical and psychological harm to the plaintiffs. It is further charged that my client's actions were exceptionally damaging due to their unusual nature."

"Too bloody right!" Newkirk yelled from the gallery.

"Settle down," Harry ordered, banging his gavel. He turned to Dan, "Exactly what is so unusual about the defendant's actions?"

"Your honour, the defendant is accused of using imaginary beings to subject several of the plaintiffs to emotional distress."

"Hey, that's not fair," Hubbles broke in, "the _plaintiffs_ are freaking imaginary!"

"I'll rephrase," Dan said. "The defendant is accused of introducing phenomena which does not exist into the lives of the plaintiffs for the sole purpose of her own sad and depraved amusement."

"Let's not get hypocritical there, Mr. I'll-Play-A-Sheep-If-You'll-Play-Bo-Peep," the defendant warned.

"Uh…yes," Dan went on, "The prosecution still insists that the defendant's dragging things that don't exist into a canon with well-established realistic boundaries - "

The witness raised an eyebrow.

"…was unfair and detrimental to the mental health of the plaintiffs," Dan finished.

"Your witness, Constable."

"Yes, your honour. Now, Miss Hubbles, do you agree with the prosecution's statement."

"I do not, your honour!" she said, addressing the judge himself. "For the first thing, my lawyer is perfectly capable of demonstrating that ghosts DO exist."

"Is that true, Counsellor?" Judge Harry asked.

Constable Fraser looked slightly uncomfortable. "If it pleases the court…"

"You bet it does!" the defendant exclaimed.

"Could the witness remember who has the gavel?" Harry demanded.

Hubbles shrugged. "Doesn't mean a thing to me, we don't use them in Canadian courts."

Harry shot her a look and then instructed the defence counsel to proceed.

Constable Fraser turned his head away and appeared to whisper something. Suddenly an older man, also in full RCMP regalia, materialized in front of the court. "May I introduce Sergeant Robert Fraser. My father."

"Holy cow, Benny!" the balding man with the police badge shouted. "You never told me about this!"

"Not now, Ray," the younger Fraser waved him off.

"Hey, that's not what you usually wear, is it?" Hubbles asked the older Fraser. "What happened to your fur hat?"

"We thought proper dress uniform would be more appropriate for the occasion," Benton Fraser told her.

Meanwhile, in the gallery, Sergeant Carter had risen to his feet and was stumbling over his friends trying to get a good look at the second Mountie.

"Sacre chat, Carter! Will you sit down!" Lebeau shouted out as Carter nearly fell into his lap. Carter, however, paid no attention to him, his face was growing an unaccustomed expression of fury and indignation.

"Your honour! Your honour!" he bellowed out after finally getting a full view of Sergeant Fraser's face, "That man - he's a darn German!"

"What?" everyone except Fraser senior and the defendant cried out.

"Aw hell, I forgot all about that," Hubbles muttered to herself.

"He is, your honour!" Carter yelled. "His name is Captain Steiner! He's with the S.S. and he once tried to break my foot!" (2)

Harry sighed again. "Five bucks to anyone who can point out to me the exact moment I lost control here."

"It's not fair, Judge!" Carter continued. "It's just not fair! Even their lawyers are out to get us!"

"It's only unfair if _your_ lawyer is out to get you too," Harry explained. "Now sit down! I want to get out of here before Future Shop closes - Mel Tormé 's concerts are coming out on Blu-Ray."

Carter crossed his arms over his chest and flopped down on his seat with a sulk. "Hmpf. How do ya like that! They're all darn well in on it!"

"If we can move along, your honour," Fraser junior said. "The presence of my father proves that ghosts do exist and therefore my client did _not_ drag in any element all that extraordinary into her stories. Furthermore, it shows that the client did not possess mens rea - a guilty mind or intent - when she did so. Her beliefs meant that her writing said beings into the story was a perfectly acceptable plot device to her and that she therefore never believed they would cause, or intended them to cause, undue mental distress."

"Do you really believe in ghosts? Judge Harry asked the defendant.

Hubbles grimaced. "Uh…well…I suppose for the purposes of this defence I could manage it," she admitted.

"The prosecution begs to differ your honour," Dan said.

"About my believing in ghosts?" Hubbles asked.

"No, the claim that the ghosts caused no mental distress. All five men on the Allied side, plus many others in camp, especially those in Barracks 2, suffered from worry, both for their own safety and for that of Sergeant Carter and Corporal Newkirk. Those two men in particular suffered - Sergeant Carter was still affected by his experiences well into the next story."

"I couldn't help that, your honour," Hubbles replied. "If someone doesn't have any emotions, doesn't that technically make them a sociopath or something? If that's the case, I should get points for giving them personalities human enough to feel pain."

"Prosecution would like to object to the sheer dumbness of the defendant's argument."

"Hey!"

"Sustained."

Hubbles pouted. "Well, it wasn't _undue_ mental distress anyway! It's not like I did it for my own enjoyment and nothing else - it was all relevant to the plot. I'm not the kind of person who gets off on Schadenfreude."

"What's that?" Bull asked from where he was standing with Selma.

"Schadenfreude is a form of pleasure that people derive from the misfortune of others," Constable Fraser started to explain. "The word has been borrowed from the German by the English and comes from the words Schaden, meaning damage or harm, and - "

Harry stopped the lecture, "I think we have it, Counsellor."

Newkirk snorted in the gallery. "Trust it to be a bloody German word," he muttered to Lebeau, who nodded.

"Your honour," Dan broke in, "Ghosts are not the only charge of unnatural phenomena to cause psychological harm that we have against the defendant. There's also the item of time travel."

Hubbles rolled her eyes. "Oh, for [very rude word]'s sake! What harm? Thanks to time travel Newkirk and Lebeau lived, Hogan wasn't - let me repeat that, _wasn't_ - taken away by the Gestapo, Carter got to play the big hero and the operation survived!"

"I don't think there's any need for language like that, Miss Hubbles," Benton Fraser admonished her with a slight cough.

Hubbles looked ashamed for a second, momentarily unable to face the her rather dreamy fellow Canadian. "My apologies, Constable. I'll try my best not to do it again," she said in a contrite voice. She raised a hand to her mouth and whispered behind it to Judge Stone, "He doesn't like it when I swear. "Diefenbaker can read lips."

"There's also the issue of Sergeant Carter's being forced to find a small child who had been buried alive," Dan pointed out. The heads of Carter's four friends whipped around to look at him with concern.

"Objection, your honour," Fraser said. "Neither Sergeant Carter's discovery or the nature of the actual event he discovered had anything to do with the supernatural. Both were just unfortunate occurrences."

"That still caused more psychological harm," Dan argued.

"I had to make Newkirk switch bunks with me for awhile - I kept dreaming I was sleeping in a coffin," Carter whimpered.

The defendant cringed a bit on the stand. "Okay, I am a bit sorry about that one. But I still did it for plot reasons: I wanted to draw a parallel between the girl's experiences in the dark and Carter's feelings of being trapped in the dark while he was possessed. I was just trying to gain him more sympathy, that's all! I don't think his so-called friends are always nice enough to him."

"Boy, that's true!" Carter exclaimed.

"Shut up, yeh daft sod! You're going to ruin our whole flamin' case!" Newkirk yelled at him.

"See," Hubbles pointed out.

Judge Stone addressed the court: "I think I agree with the defence about undue psychological harm not being proven. Let's move onto the charges of physical harm."

"Sir, the charges against my client in this area are all very small," Constable Fraser stated, "and we asked for them to be dismissed. There's only the matter of Sergeant Carter's sprained wrist and the exhaustion of him and Corporal Newkirk in my client's first story, and the slight contusions suffered by Sergeant Carter in her third story."

"Sir, the doorman for the defence has neglected to mention the matter of Corporal Lebeau's illness her fifth story, and the deaths of him, Corporal Newkirk and Sergeants Carter and Kinchloe in her sixth story."

"Okay, the deaths in that story were purposely written in such a way that they could be read as not really happening, so I don't think it's fair to hold those against me. Imagined murder isn't actually a charge, is it?" Hubbles began.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to have your counsel make your argument for you?" Judge Harry asked her.

"Oh, right. Go ahead, Constable."

"Your honour, my client wrote the deaths in that story in such a way that they could be read as not really having happened, so the defence believes the court shouldn't hold them against her since imagined murder is not a legal charge."

"Brilliant, Benny," Ray Vechio complimented sarcastically from the gallery. "You're lucky Thatcher isn't here to witness this."

"What about Corporal Lebeau's illness?" Harry asked the defendant.

"I did that _for_ him!" Hubbles asserted plaintively.

"For me??" an indignant French voice came from the gallery.

"How is causing a man to have a burst appendix doing something for him?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Hardly anyone ever writes for Lebeau! I made him sick so he'd be in the spotlight for a little while."

Harry read the file Dan had passed him. "But he hardly got any lines, let alone good ones, and then he was hauled off to the hospital, so he wasn't even there anymore!"

"Well, that's true, I suppose. But at least readers had to pay attention to him for some other reason than him cooking or wringing his hands over one of the others. Not only was he at the heart of the plot for a while, he got the readers feeling sympathy for him for a change. One of my reviewers even wanted to take him flowers."

Lebeau sniffed. "Mon dieu, it is true. She is right - it is always the four of you!" he whined pitifully. "Always, always, one of you," he snapped at them with a glare. "You are all attention pigs!"

"Hogs," Hogan corrected. He could afford to be helpful, physically he'd felt better today than he had since he'd got that overhaul on the Enterprise.

Lebeau huffed and wouldn't look at them.

"Is that the defence's case?" Harry asked Fraser.

"It is, your honour. The defence rests."

"Fabulous," Harry said. "That's lunch, people. Court will convene in one hour for the prosecution's case."

------

_Author's note: First off, sorry for the length. This story is going to have to be in two parts, but that works out well since that will give people a chance to come up with some rebuttal and/or questions I can use for the next part. PM me with anything you think Dan should bring up._

_Also, I realize I went a little off the form snooky suggested, but in my mind it turned out more like the actual show Night Court, where Harry would ask the counsellors to state the case and both sides would interject as they went along._

------

Notes:

1) I know everyone on Night Court except Harry stood while the case was being read, but this is a longer trial and there's no way I'm standing for this whole thing, even in my imagination. Besides, it gives the witnesses a chance to actually see the plaintiffs, usually they're facing the bench.

2) For those unfamiliar with _Due South_, the actor who played Fraser senior, Gordon Pinsent, also played Captain Steiner in the Hogan's Heroes episode "The Drop-outs."


	5. ColHogan takes the Stand

ColHogan Takes the Stand

Mason: I wish to call as my next witness, a writer who goes by the screen name of ColHogan.

ColHogan takes the stand. (Smiles at Colonel Robert Hogan. Is unnoticed by either lawyer).

Mason: For the jury, please tell us the screen name under which you write and submit your stories to the fanfic site?"

ColHogan: ColHogan.

Mason: ColHogan. Hmmm. Please tell us why you chose that particular screen name?

ColHogan: Because I am and have been a fan of Hogan's heroes for the entire six years they were on television, and always wanted to write stories for the core characters that were never seen on television.

Mason: And how many stories have you written so far for Hogan's Heroes?

ColHogan: Nine so far and a poem about Colonel Hogan.

Mason: Nine stories. Now, let's talk about a few of these stories, shall we? Let's begin with your most recent story called WHAT IF?

ColHogan: Ok.

Mason: Tell us briefly about this story?

ColHogan: It was an alternate ending story to an original episode called TWO NAZIS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE.

Mason: I see. Will you tell this court what your alternate ending entailed?

ColHogan: I decided to explore the possibility of what would have happened if Colonel Hogan was caught by a Gestapo officer named Freitag planned on killing his aide whom he discovered was going to kill him. And that he would also plan to kill the Colonel and set him up to make it look like he was responsible for the death of the aide.

Mason: What happened to Colonel Hogan in your story? Did you kill him?

ColHogan: I had him shot twice and originally planned on having him die. But in the end, I couldn't do it.

Mason: And why was that?

ColHogan: Because I could never kill Colonel Hogan. And while I put him thru the ringer so to speak, I always do it knowing he will survive in the end and recover.

Mason: Let's talk about another of your stories called THE DARK MENACE. You had Colonel Hogan buried alive in that one if I remember.

ColHogan: I did.

Mason: Did you plan on killing him by having him suffocate to death?

ColHogan: Again. I couldn't kill him even if I wanted to. Without the Colonel around, his operation folds up. Even though Sergeant Kinchloe is a splendid second-in-command, he is not the Colonel. Also, I believe that the readers of these stories do not enjoy seeing Hogan or his men killed, but will tolerate them being injured and even tortured as long as they recover in the end, and the bad guys get what they deserve in the end.

Mason: And how do you know this?

ColHogan: An example would be my WHAT IF? story. I had advised readers in the beginning that chapter one did not end happily because I originally planned on having the Colonel die. But several readers didn't like that I had the Colonel die and let me know it with their reviews. So, I decided to expand the story and have the Colonel survive his shooting and recover and plot on how to save his man Newkirk, who killed Freitag after he thought Freitag had killed the Colonel. I also had Sergeant Kinchloe set in motion plans to blow up Gestapo headquarters in both Berlin and Hammelburg to protect the Colonel and an Allied secret project called the Manhattan Project. And I had Colonel Klink kill an SS officer named Von Strasser who was going to torture the Colonel.

Mason: So, in your opinion, you do not feel you caused Colonel Hogan or his men any harm or permanent damage?

ColHogan: I believe the period they lived in they could expect to endure some harm, especially from the Gestapo such as Major Hochstetter. But as far as permanent damage, no. I make sure Hogan and his men never endure any permanent damage. I just can't do that to them.

At this point, Mason would turn to Commander Riker: Your witness. (I sneak a wink at the Colonel while Mason is blocking Riker's view. Sigh).

Riker: ColHogan, just a few questions.

ColHogan: Ask away, Commander.

Riker: You claim you cause no permanent damage or harm to Colonel Hogan. Is that correct?

ColHogan: That's what I said.

Riker: Then please explain to this court what happened to Colonel Hogan in your story THE DARK MENACE after he was buried alive?

ColHogan: I had read in other stories that after the Colonel was tortured or whatever he always recovered pretty much right away, so I decided to show that that was not always the case. I had him go thru post-traumatic stress disorder where his being buried alive triggered a childhood trauma that had occurred in his life and caused him to fear going back down into the tunnels and gave him nightmares.

*Hogan felt a headache develop as he recalled the terrifying incident. But he also felt a strange calmness come over him because the incident didn't seem to disturb him as much as he thought recalling it would. Also, he recalled Dr. Praeger fondly.*

Riker: And you don't think that caused harm and permanent damage to Colonel Hogan?

ColHogan: Even when I researched PTSD I had no intention of using it unless I was certain he could recover. That's when I discovered the use of hypnotism as a means of helping him recover. So I created a hypnotherapist named Dr. Ernest Praeger to help the Colonel work thru his problems.

Riker: And was he able to help?

ColHogan: He was very successful. He also removed the childhood trauma as well. In addition, I made sure that this problem of the Colonel's was kept off his military record so it couldn't be used against him later on.

Riker: I recall you had Sergeant Wilson present during these hypnosis sessions. Why was that?

ColHogan: Dr. Praeger was using a drug to relax the patient before he began the session and this drug had some minor side effects that made it important for a doctor to be present to monitor the patient's vital signs after it had been administered.

Mason, at this point, had a smile on his face. With that question it opened the window for redirect.

Riker: Was Colonel Hogan ever in danger from this drug he was given?

ColHogan: Never. While under hypnosis, if Sergeant Wilson noticed signs that the Colonel was becoming agitated and his blood pressure was rising, the session was brought to an immediate end or the subject being discussed to calm him down.

Riker: How was Colonel Hogan's absence explained to Kommandant Klink?

ColHogan: It wasn't. I had someone pretend to be the Colonel and suffering from the flu which the Kommandant accepted. After a few days I knew that wouldn't continue to work since the Kommandant would be likely to send Colonel Hogan to the hospital, so I had Sergeant Kinchloe ask London to send in a Hogan look-alike. A Lt. Noel Jackman. He fooled everybody who met him.

*Hogan smiled at the mentioning of Jackman's name. He looked around in the back of the courtroom and saw Jackman smile back at him. He then turned his attention back to the proceedings.*

Riker: So, in other words, you're expecting this court to believe you didn't intend to expose Hogan and his men to extreme distress, harm and permanent damage in your stories?

ColHogan: As I've said before, Commander, I may expose the Colonel and his men to distress and harm, but I believe that goes along with the time period they were in when these kinds of things happened. But I always made certain the Colonel and his men always survived they're situations and came out of them stronger than before. I could never see them permanently harmed by anything I write because I don't write like that. I prefer to see the bad guys suffer permanent damage.

*Riker felt his cross didn't go as he expected. He looked at Judge Harry. "I'm finished with this witness, your Honor," he said, returning to his table and sat down. He was somewhat discouraged at the moment.*

Mason got to his feet. "Redirect, your honor."

Judge: "Proceed, Mr. Mason."

Mason (on re-direct): ColHogan, you mentioned earlier you created a hypnotherapist to help Colonel Hogan get over his trauma of being buried alive, and you had Sergeant Kinchloe have London send in a look-alike to impersonate the Colonel. Can you tell the court why you did that?

ColHogan: It's simple really. I respect and admire Colonel Hogan and his men and what they managed to accomplish. But there were many things that were never done on Hogan's Heroes that we, as writers, decided to explore. But in defense of myself and my fellow writers, we always did our research to try to keep things within that period of time as realistic as possible.

Mason: In your story where the Colonel was shot by Freitag, you had Kommandant Klink accompany Hogan to the hospital. Why?

ColHogan: My research of that time period showed that Americans, much less those who were POWs would never be treated by a doctor much  
less be admitted to a German hospital for care. So I had the Kommandant go with him and lie to the hospital about Hogan being important to the Third Reich so he would get the best care possible. I also did that to show how humane Klink could be and that he cared very much what happened to Hogan and his men.

Mason: You also wrote a story in which an SS officer named Von Strasser tried to kill the Colonel with a straight razor. Do you recall that?

ColHogan: I do.

*Hogan winced at hearing the name of Von Strasser. He touched his cheek where he had been cut even though he had completely healed. But he still remembered.*

Mason: You had Von Strasser kill one man and was partly responsible for the death of another. But yet, when it came to Colonel Hogan, you didn't have him seriously injured. Can you explain this to the court?

ColHogan: Yes. The man Von Strasser killed was an assassin who was hired to kill the Colonel. The man he was partially to blame for had been sent to protect the Colonel. But these were characters of my own imagination. When it came to Colonel Hogan, again I did not want him to suffer seriously so I had him cut lightly. And when the time called for it, I had Klink shoot him to save Hogan's life.

Mason: Why would you do that? Have the Kommandant shoot an SS officer.

ColHogan: I'll keep saying it. Because with my writing I do not want Colonel Hogan and his men, although exposed to danger and harm, to be permanently harmed and damaged by whatever I decide to put them through. Also, in that story, I wanted Klink to redeem himself in the eyes of the prisoners and Hogan for not stopping one man from being killed.

Mason: Thank you. No more questions.


	6. Kinch is recalled

Sergeant James Kinchloe has been recalled to the stand by Mason in response to the testimony of ColHogan.

(respectfully submitted to the Court Reporter -Snooky 9093 by Colonel Hogan aka Denise)

Mason: Sgt. Kinchloe, you've heard the testimony of ColHogan regarding her story WHAT IF? in which Colonel Hogan had been shot twice and was presumed dead. Is that correct?

Kinch: It was. (Kinch recalled the painful event and Hogan being in a coma for several days afterwards).

Mason: And you later found out he was severely wounded and in a coma. Is that correct?

Kinch: That's true. It was an extremely difficult time for me, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk. We all thought the Colonel had been murdered in cold blood. Then Newkirk took it on himself to avenge the Colonel's death by killing Freitag himself.

Mason: I see. How did you find out Colonel Hogan was still alive?

Kinch: Sergeant Schultz came into our barracks and told us that the Colonel was still alive, and that he had been rushed to the hospital and that the Kommandant had gone with him.

Mason: And how did you find out about Colonel Hogan being in a coma later?"

Kinch (his eyes sought out the Kommandant on the left side of the room. He smiled slightly): Klink came to our barracks when he returned from the hospital and told us that he noticed the hospital wasn't going to treat the Colonel at all, so he told a lie to have the Colonel admitted and treated.

Mason (raising his eyebrows in surprise): What lie did he say he told the hospital?

Kinch: We found out later he had told the hospital that the Colonel was considered an important man and had defected to the Third Reich and that the prisoners had tried to kill him when they found out. He demanded that the hospital give him the best care possible.

Mason: And did they?

Kinch (smiling): Yes they did.

Mason: Now, let's jump ahead for a moment. I believe Corporal Newkirk had been arrested by Major Hochstetter for the death of Gruppenfuhrer Freitag.

Kinch: He was. He was going to take him to Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg for questioning.

Mason: But they never got there did they, Sergeant? Something happened before they could get there, didn't it?

*Kinch hesitated. He looked at Colonel Hogan nervously. He saw Hogan look at him and nod. Kinch swallowed the lump in his throat.*: I ordered the roadside ambush of Major Hochstetter and the rescue of Newkirk.

*Hochstetter snarled at Kinch's words: "I KNEW Hogan was behind it! I just KNEW it! Now I have him!"

*Burkhalter, glowering at the Gestapo agent, leaned close: "Hochstetter, SHUT UP! You're one of the reasons we're here anyway. You and your obsession with Hogan!"

Judge Harry banged his gavel loudly: "Let's have quiet in the court!" When things had quieted down, Harry looked at Mason. "You may continue Mr. Mason."

"Thank you, Your Honor. Sgt. Kinchloe, will you repeat your last response."

Kinch: I ordered a roadside ambush of major Hochstetter's car and the freeing of Newkirk.

Mason: Is that all you did?

Kinch: No, sir. I ordered the bombing of Gestapo headquarters in Hammelburg and Berlin.

Mason: And why did you do that?

Kinch: Because we had to destroy all documentation the Gestapo might have had on the Colonel in Hammelburg. With Berlin, we couldn't be sure Freitag didn't have documentation on the Colonel and the Manhattan Project. We did it to protect the Colonel.

Mason: I believe you even went so far as to have underground agents pose as Gestapo agents to stand guard outside the Colonel's hospital room.

Kinch: Yes, sir.

Mason: So in other words, Sgt. Kinchloe, would you agree that the writer of this story WHAT IF? didn't do any long-term or permanent damage to the Colonel and Corporal Newkirk? And that the author was looking out for these men?

Kinch: I'd say with Corporal Newkirk, the writer kept him out of danger by having him hide out with either the underground or with us. And when there was a chance of him getting hurt, she had him turn himself in to Sgt. Schultz who would never have hurt Newkirk.

Mason: And Colonel Hogan?

Kinch: I would have to honestly say that although the Colonel was harmed by being shot twice, he didn't suffer any permanent damage from his injuries. And the author made certain the Colonel received the best care possible in the hospital.

Mason smiled at Kinch: Thank you Sergeant Kinchloe. (He looked at Riker).

*Riker stood slowly and looked at Kinch. Then, he looked at the Judge: I have no questions for this witness, Your Honor. *

aka ColHogan Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	7. Oboe's testimony

"Sir! We've got a problem!" cried Baker as he climbed off the ladder and over the edge of the bunk leading to the tunnels below. Hogan turned, detouring from his intended destination of his office, to return to the common room table.

"What's up, Baker?" asked Hogan, setting down his coffee cup.

"It's that oboe11, sir!" replied Baker. "We just can't get the subpoena delivered."

By this time, the other members of the team had gathered around to see what was going on.

"I thought that that Commander Riker gave us those things called email addresses so that we could reach all the writers."

"He did sir, and we sent out the subpoena but apparently, they didn't get it."

"Why not?"

"It seems that this 'email' has something called a 'junk mail' folder. Quite often mail that isn't from someone the person knows gets delivered as junk mail and they don't get the message. Apparently, we're considered 'spam'."

"Spam?" questions Hogan, scratching his head.

"Mmmmm, Spam," broke in Carter, eyes closed with a dreamy look on his face. "Lovely Spam, wonderful Spam. I can't wait to get my Red Cross package every month to get a new can. The things Louie can do with Spam are amazing: Spam, Spam, baked beans and Spam, egg and Spam, egg bacon and Spam, egg bacon sausage and Spam, Spam, Spam…"

"Carter! Knock it off already! 'ow many times do I 'ave to tell ya – I DON'T LIKE SPAM!" yelled Newkirk.

"Well, spam in this case doesn't mean the canned meat product. It refers to messages that the user gets that are unwanted from people they don't know. They get filtered out and the user doesn't see them. The point is that we've managed to confirm that most of the writers that we want to put on trial aren't getting their subpoenas because of this, especially oboe11!"

"Well, we'll just have to deliver it in person then. Everybody grab a copy and see if you can track her down. Report back here at 1400 tomorrow."

"Report, gentlemen. Delivery accomplished?" asked Hogan to the men once more gathered around the barracks table. Everyone looked at each other, trying to see which man had been successful. "Judging by the looks going around the table, I'd say no one managed to connect with oboe11."

"You're right, _Colonel_. She's a tricky one. Tried to get her at home yesterday afternoon but she was at work."

"I tried her at home two nights ago but she's slipped out to a Girl Guide meeting."

"I tried her in the morning but she was taking her son to school."

"I thought I'd cornered her last night but she was out at concert band rehearsal."

The others piped in with their excuses: "Pathfinders", "Rangers", "Band Executive meeting", "Haircut", "Dentist", "Eye exam", "Skating lessons"…

"You mean to tell me that out of 14 guys in this barracks, none of you could find her?" broke in Colonel Hogan, flabbergasted.

"She's just too busy. I don't even know when she has time to write!" exclaimed LeBeau.

"Ok, fellas, this calls for drastic measures. We're going to have to use our own plot device. A pretty unrealistic one too."

Gasps were heard throughout the barracks.

"What are we going to do boy? I mean sir?" asked Carter fearfully.

"We're going to have to drop in on her when she has no where to escape. Better go in disguise. Newkirk, go get decked out…"

Oboe11 was trying to get home from work. Stuck in rush hour traffic on the highway, she edged her car forward each time the car in front moved ahead. The CD player was off, and she was mulling over the latest writer's block that had plagued her Hogan's Heroes story. She did her best story planning in the car.

Suddenly, a little old lady appeared in her passenger seat. Giving a yelp of surprise and fright, oboe11 fortunately didn't ram into the car ahead of her or die instantly of a heart attack.

"Excuse me dearie," the little old lady said, pushing up her wire-rimmed glasses. "Do you happen to go by the penname of oboe11 on the fan fiction website?"

"Where did you come from? How did you get in my car?" asked oboe11 incredulously, not answering the lady's question.

"I'm just trying to track down the person that goes by the name oboe11. Is that you, sweetie?" Newkirk tried again, still using his syrupy-sweet little old lady's voice.

"I…well, I…um…er…what was the question again?" oboe11 skirted the question, thoroughly embarrassed about being caught writing fan fiction.

"Oboe11, dear, are you oboe11?" Newkirk was getting exasperated.

Biting the bullet, oboe11 meekly replied. "Yes", finally taking a good look at her passenger. "Hey, wait a minute. I recognize you! You're Newkirk from Hogan's Heroes!"

"You recognize me? 'ow is that possible? I used this disguise to 'ide from a bunch of Germans several times and they never figured out who I's was," said Newkirk reverting to his natural accent.

"Yeah, well, things are seen a little different on this side of the TV screen. Besides, I've seen that disguise before. What are you doing here?"

"Serving you with a subpoena to appear before the Fanfic Court. You've got some explaining to do missy!" And with that, Newkirk disappeared in a poof.

Oboe11 was scared. She'd just read the Fanfic Court and the start of the trial on her lunch break at work yesterday. Now she was supposed to testify? How was she supposed to explain this to her husband? He didn't even know she was writing again!

Oboe11 tossed and turned fitfully in bed. Finally dropping off to sleep, she started dreaming and was whisked away into the courtroom.

I open my eyes to find myself in a courtroom, seated on the witness stand. Quickly I look down to make sure I'm not still dressed in my pjs. Relieved to find myself dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, I look around.

"All rise! Criminal Court Part II, City of New York, is now in session. Case number 0876707. The honourable Harold T. Stone presiding," shouts Bull from the corner.

I can't believe I'm really here. I see Harry Stone bound up the steps to the judge's bench and take his place at the head of the court. Turning, I see all my favourite Hogan's Heroes characters sitting watching the proceedings. Thoughts of getting autographs briefly cross my mind.

Then a large, imposing man makes his way into my line of sight.

"State your name for the record" he says.

"Um, who are you?" I ask.

"I'm Perry Mason. Don't you recognize me?"

"Sorry," I say. "You're a bit before my time. Even those guys," and I wave a hand to indicate the Heroes, "I only caught in reruns growing up. I never saw the complete series until I got the DVDs."

The admission ruffles Mason's feathers. Obviously, he thought _everyone_ should know who he was. He sits down in a huff.

"Back to your name, miss," says Riker, taking up where Mason left off.

"Um, oboe11?" I tentatively offer, hoping that would be enough.

"You don't wish us to know your real name?" asks Riker.

"Not really. See, I'm more of a graduated lurker around here."

"Care to explain that?"

"Well, lurkers don't really make themselves known. They read a lot of the stories, and don't leave reviews. I'm starting to go beyond that, posting a few stories, responding to the reviews I do get, adding favourite stories and authors. Oh, and I actually wrote something in my profile too!"

"So how many of these stories have you written?" asks Riker, leaning against his table.

"Not many – only 4 and there was 3 years between my last one and the one I'm currently writing. That's why I can't understand why I'm here. I don't believe I've really abused the characters."

"Then you deny that you stole the chance for Colonel Hogan to spend Christmas with his family?"

"I don't think…oh! You mean in I'll Be Home – I turned it all into a dream. That wasn't physical harm."

"Did you not think what the emotional toll is on these poor characters, teasing them with being home after so many years in a prison camp? Look at Colonel Hogan right now – the angst he suffered!"

Colonel Hogan sat in the front row on the left. He had a glazed look and a couple of stray tears ran down his face as the others tried to console him.

"Objection, your honour!" Mason piped up. "That story is more than 5 years old. It's outside the statutes of limitations."

"Agreed. Let's try to find something a bit more recent, Mr. Riker," said Judge Harry, wearing his Groucho Marx glasses.

"Moving on then. What else have you written, oboe11?" asked Riker.

"Well, my first story was an episode extension, Dressing for Dinner. It explained how Colonel Hogan got 'talked' into wearing a German uniform to dinner with Klink and Burkhalter. It was quite funny!"

"Yes, yes, but also outside the statutes. What about your third story?"

"Close Every Door to Me? Well, that one wasn't so bad…" I squirmed under Riker's scrutiny.

"Not so bad. Let's see, Hogan was held by the SS, beat up, drugged, unwillingly underwent plastic surgery and was sent into hostile territory undercover with no support. He was in an aerial dogfight, suffered major angst after shooting down an Allied plane, and finally ejected from his plane only to be captured and treated as a traitor by Newkirk and Kinch because they didn't recognize him."

"But it was an adventure. I didn't shoot him or anything. He was practically unscathed in that one, considering how I originally planned to write it. It was supposed to be totally torture and whump when I started it."

"Objection!" inserted Mason again. "Can we please define the term 'whump'?"

"Agreed. Oboe11, you are using fan fiction terms we aren't familiar with here. Please explain," said Harry.

"Whump," I said, "is where you beat up on the main character or main supporting characters, because you want to. Some readers get a lot of gratification out of seeing their heroes suffer. The TV shows themselves can't do it, because of censors and genre ratings and stuff. But in fan fictions, there are no boundaries. We can take the characters as far as we want to, deepen their personalities, give them family, push their strength of character, make them bond more, stuff like that."

"And readers like this stuff?" asks Riker.

"Of course. Hogan's Heroes was a family show, a comedy for the most part. It took a very serious subject, World War 2, and turned it into something that people could make fun of. You have to remember, the war had only been over for roughly 20 years when the TV show came on the air. Most people alive had lived through the war.

"Now the problem with making it a comedy was that a lot of stuff couldn't happen on screen. Can't kill anyone off, can't have anyone injured or hurt, although I believe LeBeau once got grazed by a bullet, can't have any love scenes that get beyond a man and woman simply kissing. How are fans supposed to get by on just that? We have very vivid imaginations. We have emotional needs too. We want to see how our favourite characters will react when we put them in unknown situations. If the TV show wasn't going to provide us with what we needed, we will darn well create it ourselves. You can't tell me you've never watched a TV show and thought, 'I wished they'd written it this way' or 'I wish this had happened instead'."

"Perhaps, but I'm not the one on trial here," replied Riker. Riker wasn't pleased with how this testimony was going. It was sounding more like oboe11 should have been called in by the defence. "Back to Close Every Door, oboe11. Now are you claiming that Colonel Hogan should have no lasting affects from his time in your story?"

"I wouldn't think so. I put him back where I found him at the beginning of the story."

"Putting him back in the same physical space does not mean he is in the same emotional state. He was seriously grieving for the Allied men he shot down. You like to play with his emotions, don't you?" grilled Riker.

"Yes, I have to admit that I do. I must also remind the court that I myself didn't put Colonel Hogan through all that. It was actually Oberst Norbert."

"But you created Norbert didn't you?"

"I did. But he tends to act on his own, without my approval. It was his fault that Doors didn't go into torture. He decided to be a rogue agent and use Hogan for his own plans."

"And you claim to have no influence in the matter?"

"Sometimes the stories write themselves. The writers just have to put down the words their characters are telling them in their heads."

"And what is Colonel Norbert doing to Colonel Hogan right now?" asks Riker, looking over at the Barracks 2 group. Hogan was unconscious on the bench with a large red stain on his bomber jacket and the other team members were hovering around him.

"Uh, he's setting him up to get him out of camp?" I replied nervously.

"But doesn't Hogan think that he's dead at the moment? That Hochstetter executed him? Isn't that extreme duress?"

"Objection!" shouted Perry Mason. He'd been enjoying where oboe11's testimony had been going and had been silent through most of the proceedings. His nose was also still a little out of joint that she didn't recognize him. It was time for him to be noticed again.

"On what grounds, Mr. Mason?" asked Harry, stopping his juggling to look at the defence attorney.

"Prosecutor is putting words in the defendant's mouth," he replied smugly.

"Agreed. Riker you know better by now…" sighed Harry.

"I don't know about extreme duress, just some major angst. You should be thankful that it's all a hoax," I said, looking at Riker.

"A HOAX!" the yell came from the Axis side of the courtroom. "I caught Hogan red-handed! I put him against the wall! I yelled Fire! I know those guns went off! What do you mean it was a HOAX?"

"Order in the Court!" Harry banged his gavel repeatedly on the desk. "Major Hochstetter, if you can't contain yourself, I will have you removed from these proceedings. Is that clear?"

The Gestapo man sat down, grumbling under his breath.

"So what's this about the execution being a hoax?" asked Riker, trying to get through the last of this testimony.

"Norbert is up to his old tricks again. I just don't know what that man is going to do next. He keeps popping up with his plot bunnies and runs rampant over my stories."

"Plot bunnies?" Riker asks, scratching his head.

"Story ideas," I clarify. "Little nuggets of story plots that cause a writer to create a story around. See with Executions, I was in a particularly depressed mood one day and wanted to write a little Hogan whump. So I decided to see if I could convincingly write him off. Just a little self-indulgence. I didn't post it anywhere. Chapter 2 was a complete stand-alone of just the execution itself. Then Norbert came mucking about and suddenly I'm immersed in this complex story and Hogan ends up alive at the end of the execution. So I really don't think that I should be up on charges here for over-abuse of the characters."

"Hmmm. We'll let the jury decide that, if it's ok with you oboe11," says Riker.

I shrug. What can I do at this point? My fate is in the jury's hands.

"Your witness, Mr. Mason."

"No questions at this time, Your Honour," says Perry.

"Do you wish to stay for the rest of the proceedings?" asks Harry.

"If it's alright with the court, I'll just pop in for an update every once in a while. If you ever want Colonel Hogan to wake up from his execution, you'd better let me get back to my computer. I lost 6 hours of writing from that story to testify here today. I don't want any upset readers to come after me for not updating!"

"Ok, you're dismissed on your own recognisance. You may be recalled at any time, especially depending on what else you add to your current story. Understood, oboe11?"

"Yes, sir," I reply.

The next time I blink I realize I'm looking at the digital clock beside my bed, the numbers 3:47 glowing redly in the dark. What a nightmare!

A/N: with nods to Monty Python's Flying Circus and apologies to Hormel (the makers of Spam the meat product)


	8. Oh, no Not Again by Jake

Slowly life settled back into normal routine after my return from DC. A month or two later, I set my creative sights on another fandom, while Jordre started writing for Hogan's Heroes. Somewhere in the midst of mundanity, I was treated to a very brief accidental visit by some other supposedly fictional characters, but that was it. The adventure was over, done, finished, and I had accepted that fact. So you can imagine my surprise when I read, _You are hereby ordered…_

"You're not gonna believe this," I said to Jordre.

"What?"

"The fanfic writers are being taken to court for causing 'mental and physical anguish' to a group calling themselves 'theboysfrom-barrackstwo.'" No sooner had the words come out of my mouth when I began to notice a peculiar tingling sensation.

Whatever was causing it must have been visible, as well, because Jordre's eyes went wide and she groaned, "Oh, no; not again!"

My reaction was a lot more succinct; when I suddenly found myself in what was clearly a courtroom, in the witness stand, what I groaned was, "Oh, crap."

Okay, I'll admit it. I've been watching too many _I-Man_ reruns. So sue me—Oh, wait. Somebody just did. Never mind.

I looked around and was alternately pleased, startled, and dismayed by what I saw. Dismayed at the sight of the Heroes, who all looked pretty rough. Startled to see Hochstetter; the last I'd seen of him had been in the late summer of 2008, when a CIA agent had been leading him into the bowels of who-knows-where. A little pleased to notice a number of other characters I knew, though most of those present were total strangers to me. Startled again to see Perry Mason approaching me, whose cases I could remember from their _first_ airings. "You are a very unusual writer," he said to me. "Why do you have four screen names?"

_"Four…?!" _I blurted, then realized what he was talking about. "Oh, good grief. Two of them aren't me at all. 'Peeper Stockwell' is a friend who can't seem to get the system to accept her posts, so I posted a story for her. 'Jordre' is my roommate. The other two names are mine. I only used 'Jake Duncan' in one story; everything else is under 'Jake Crepeau.'"

LeBeau perked up at the sound of that name. _"Parlez-vous Français?" _he asked.

_"Mais non,"_ I answered apologetically.

Heaving a great dramatic sigh, he lamented, _"C'est dommage."_

It was too clear where _his_ mind was, and I glared at him. "Can it, Mister," I snapped in my best command voice. "In case you've forgotten, I'm old enough to be your mother."

That did the trick; he tried to shrink into his seat while the others snickered. Colonel Hogan shot me a thumbs-up, his eyes dancing. (For those who've never read the "Experiments," I'm one of those people who tends to look as much as twenty years younger than I really am.)

I jumped, startled, when the judge banged his gavel. "Quiet in the peanut gallery," he intoned, and I nearly lost it at that classic Howdy-Doodyism. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him.

"For the record, would you please tell the court which story you posted as Jake Duncan?" Mr. Mason asked.

"That was the name I used in the chapters I contributed to 'The Mary Sue Experiments,'" I replied.

"And why was that, when you used 'Jake Crepeau' on everything else?"

"Just to make life easier for the readers," I said. "Most people who've never been exposed to French have a hard time pronouncing 'Crepeau;' I've met some who can't even repeat it back to me."

"Miss Crepeau, would you please roll up your…" he glanced at a sheet of paper, "…right sleeve?"

Since I was wearing a short-sleeved shirt to start with, I had a pretty good idea where he was going, so I pulled up my sleeve and turned so the jury could get a good look at the still-vivid scar running across the outside of my upper arm.

"Please tell the court where you got that scar."

"I was shot during a raid on a Nazi lab in chapter sixty-one," I said.

"The court will please note that the main purpose of 'The Mary Sue Experiments' was for the writers to insert _themselves_ into the story. What we have here is an example of an author who was willing to incur injury to her own person for the benefit of the story.

"Your witness, Commander Riker."

Mr. Mason seated himself, and Will Riker approached; out of nowhere I recalled that I'd always thought the beard made him look kind of sinister.

"Miss Crepeau," he began, "is it true that, by the time 'A Papa Bear of His Very Own' was written, you were aware that a story has a very real, direct effect on its characters?"

"Hey! You can't—"

"Please just answer the question."

"Objection. The byline of that story is 'Jordre,' whom we have already established is a separate person from Miss Crepeau."

_I love you, Mr. Mason,_ I thought gratefully.

"Sustained," the judge replied, and I suddenly realized where I'd seen him before, though I couldn't remember his name. Hey, gimme a break; I've only seen one episode of _Night Court,_ and that was over twenty years ago!

Riker looked through his notes with an increasingly desperate look on his face, then finally shrugged helplessly. "No further questions, your honor."

As I headed out of the courtroom, I spotted my inadvertent visitors in the gallery. _…a very real direct effect on the characters…_ I shrugged apologetically at them for the stories that I haven't yet posted. The older of the two winked at me as if to say _bring it on _(trust me; he's cocky enough to do just that), though at the same time his body language was clearly protective of his young ward. I shrugged again, since the kid takes the brunt of it in one or two of those stories; this time it was Jeff who winked at me, and his guardian couldn't seem to figure out whether he should be glaring at me or him.

Jordre cracked up when I told her about that little exchange with LeBeau, but then sobered when she heard that her stories had come up in the questioning. "As if I don't have enough on my plate already," she sighed.


	9. The Good Doctor Speaks by ColHogan

**Sent in By ColHogan**

**Judge Stone glanced at Mason. **

**Stone: You may call your next witness, Mr. Mason.**

**Mason(standing): Thank you, Your Honor. I wish to call Dr. Ernest Praeger.**

**Everybody on both sides of the gallery watched as an older-looking with white hair walk from his seat in the back of the right-side of the gallery and, after being sworn in, sat down in the witness stand.**

**Mason: Would you please tell your name to the court?**

**Praeger: Dr. Ernest Praeger. I am a hypnotherapist. (Praeger's eyes fell on Colonel Robert Hogan who returned the doctor's smile.)**

**Mason: No Dr. Praeger, what exactly is a hypnotherapist?**

**Praeger: I use hypnosis to treat my patients and help them get over traumas.**

**Mason: I see. Doctor, have you ever met Colonel Robert Hogan? And if you have, could you tell us when?**

**Praeger: In answer to your first question, yes, I have met Colonel Hogan. To your second question, I first met the Colonel in the story THE DARK MENACE. I was summoned by a Lt. Noel Jackman to assist the Colonel with a problem.**

**Mason: Without violating any classified information, doctor, can you tell the court what the problem was that Colonel Hogan had that required your services?**

**Praeger: Colonel Hogan had been kidnapped by a group of people who took the law into their own hands regarding those they considered enemies of Germany and the Third Reich.**

**Mason: And just how and why did the Colonel end up being kidnapped by these people?**

**Praeger: I'm afraid I can't answer that as it's classified information.**

***Hochstetter smirked. "Probably was outside of the camp again," he muttered. "I swear that man is the most dangerous man in Germany." Judge Stone banged his gavel and stared at Hochstetter. "Major, I've warned you several times. I willot warn you again to be quiet."**

**Hochstetter: Sorry. (he mumbled something under his breath that nobody could hear)***

**Mason: Then, doctor, can you tell us what these people did to Colonel Hogan?**

**Praeger: They held him prisoner for several days and then they buried him alive inside a casket.**

*** there was a notable gasp from the spectators and members of the jury. Hogan leaned forward to pay closer attention to the doctor's testimony.***

**Mason(appearing shocked): Buried alive, doctor?**

**Praeger: Yes. **

***Riker leaned forward on his elbows, paying careful and close attention to Praeger.**

**Mason: Doctor, in what condition was Colonel Hogan when you met him for the first time?**

**Praeger: Colonel Hogan was suffering from a severe case of Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder. He was deathly afraid of everything, especially of being buried alive. He even suffered from several hallucinations.**

**Mason: Hallucinations?**

**Praeger: There were instances where he sometimes would look at his own men and see the faces of the men who buried him alive. Then there were other instances where he reacted like a frightened animal.**

***Kinch, sitting beside the Colonel, gripped Hogan's shoulder and squeezed. He knew that was a painful time for them all, especially Hogan.***

**Mason: What did you do for the Colonel?**

**Praeger: I had Sgt. Wilson join me in the Colonel's quarters where I explained to the Colonel and his men exactly what I was going to do. The Colonel agreed to give it a chance. I then gave Colonel Hogan an injection of a drug I use to relax my patients, but as the side effects are mild, it is best that a medical doctor be on hand to keep a watch on the patient.**

***By now even Judge Harry was listening, fascinated by what the doctor was saying. He was so fascinated, in fact, that he completely forgot the play dough he was molding into different shapes.***

**Mason: How many sessions did you have with Colonel Hogan?**

**Praeger: I had two sessions. After that, he was fine and had no further problems. **

**Mason: Would you say, doctor, that Colonel Hogan suffered permanant damage from his experience of being buried alive?**

**Praeger: He would have if the author hadn't had me come to Germany to help him with hypnotherapy.**

**Mason: So in conclusion, Doctor Praeger, would you say the author made certain that Colonel Hogan was well cared for?**

**Praeger: In my honest opinion, I would say the author made certain that Colonel Hogan did not suffer any longterm permanent damage.**

**Mason: Thank you doctor. (he looked at Riker): Your witness, Commander Riker.**

***Riker slowly got to his feet. He knew this witness could damage his case if he couldn't punch holes in his testimony. Smiling to hide his nervousness, Riker approached the witness stand.***

**Riker: Doctor Praeger, you mentioned earlier that Colonel Hogan had been kidnapped, held prisoner for several days, and then buried alive.**

**Praeger: That is correct.**

**Riker: And you wouldn't say the author didn't cause extreme distress to the Colonel, doctor?**

**Praeger: I never denied it wasn't extremely stressful, Commander, especially since a similar incident happened in the Colonel's childhood. What I said was that the author made certain the Colonel had no permaent damage or harm done to him. That was why she had me sent there.**

**Riker: You mentioned that the Colonel suffered from hallucinations. In other words, he would look at you or me or anybody and see only the people who buried him alive.**

**Praeger: That is correct, Commander.**

**Riker: You also said he was afraid of everything and, in your own words, acted like a frightened animal. Is that correct?**

**Praeger: That is correct.**

**Riker: And you still wouldn't call that doing harm to the character?**

**Praeger: Commander Riker, may I explain something?**

**Riker: Please, doctor.**

**Praeger: I cannot and will not deny that what Colonel Hogan went through wasn't very stressful. Because it was. It would be to anybody. And without treatment, he would have suffered irreparable harm and possibly permanent damage. But the author never intended for the Colonel to suffer any permanent damage or be harmed by his experience. If she did, she wouldn't have created me.**

**Riker: So you expect us to believe that Colonel Hogan has completely recovered from this experience?**

**Praeger: Look at him, Commander. Does he seem like he is suffering any permanent damage?**

***Hogan felt the eyes of the spectattors and the jury focused on him in response to Praeger's statement. He glanced around at the spectators and at the jury. Even Judge Stone was studying the Colonel. Hogan was very fond of the doctor even if he was damaging Riker's case.***

**Riker (feeling it slipping away): Doctor, Colonel Hogan is not on trial. **

**Praeger: I realize that, Commander. I also realize that the writers are on trial for creating extreme distress, harm and possible permanent damage to these characters from Hogan's Heroes. But I must say that what these writers put these characters through only matches with what they endured during the 1940s in Germany and especially with the Gestapo. I'm certain the Gestapo did much worse things to these characters than the writers ever could.**

**Riker: Speaking of the Gestapo, doctor, wasn't Major Hochstetter present in camp at the time?**

**Praeger: He was. He had received a report that a plane was seen with someone parachuting out of it. It could either have been me or Lt. Jackman.**

**Riker: And did this create stress on Colonel Hogan with the Gestapo nosing around while he was having problems?**

**Praeger: Commander, by the time Major Hochstetter arrived, Colonel Hogan was back in charge and fuly recovered from his problems.**

**Riker: Thank you doctor. I have no more questions for this witness.**

***Mason jumped up immediately before Riker could sit down.**

**"Redirect, Your Honor."***

**Judge Stone: Go ahead, Mr. Mason.**

**Mason(staring at Praeger): Doctor, regarding Major Hochstetter, he has been, shall we say, a thorn in the side of Colonel Hogan during the entire series as well as these fanfics. Correct?**

**Praeger: That is correct.**

**Mason: I believe the author came up with a plan to keep Major Hochstetter from harming Colonel Hogan. Can you tell us what that plan was?**

**Praeger: The author had me hypnotize Major Hochstetter and convince him that Colonel Hogan had nothing to do with any sabotage and was not the person he believed to be Papa Bear. She also had me have him apologize to Kommandant Klink.**

***Hochstetter started to jump up when he heard Praeger's words. But a look from the judge stopped him before he did. Instead, Hochstetter added Praeger's name to his list.***

**Mason: In other words, doctor, the author made sure Major Hochstetter would not harm this major character in any way or cause him any permanent damage.**

**Praeger: That is correct, Mr. Mason.**

**Mason: Thank you, doctor.**

***Mason, smiling, looked at the judge. "I'm through with this witness, Your Honor." ***

**Judge Stone: Thank you, Doctor Praeger. You may step down and remain in the gallery for the rest of the trial, or you can leave the court.**

***Nodding, Praeger stepped down from the witness box and re-took his seat in the gallery to watch the rest of the trial. **


	10. Sapphirebird

It was a bright and cold day as a young, 18-year-old girl made a face at the outside world. She was staring through the window on the door to the upstairs deck as she waited for her computer to load. She had to squint her green eyes against the sunlight reflecting off the two feet of snow that had been dumped on the landscape by Mother Nature just the other day.

"Just when things were beginning to get warm!" she grumbled. "Two beautiful days of weather above 20 degrees---in the 40s, actually---and then _this_ happens. Talk about your cruel jokes! Well... at least I'm on vacation this week... Has that darn computer loaded yet?"

After briefly checking the computer to find it still loading, the girl returned her gaze outside the window, contemplating whether or not she felt like trying to pass the time with another one of her daydreams about Major Hochstetter. That's when she noticed the mailman coming down the road and up to her house.

"Huh. I wonder what that's all about... Maybe it's a sign from God to stop thinking about Hochstetter so much.... Nah. It's probably just the Dave Matthews Band tickets Mom ordered. God, that show's gonna be awesome! I'll probably have to sign for the tickets, though, since Mom's at work... Meh..." she said out-loud to herself. Sure enough, the mailman got out of his truck, holding a package and a few envelopes, and walked up to the door. As the doorbell rang, the girl made her way down the stairs and answered the door.

"Hello," the mailman greeted.

"Hi," the girl responded as she opened the screen door to retrieve the mail from the man. Before giving her the mail, though, the man held out an electronic box with a screen on it.

"I need for you to sign for this."

"Oh, all right." She forced a smile and took the electronic pen he was holding. She always hated these computer signature things; it always made her signature look like a toddler's. But she signed it nonetheless and gave the pen back to the mailman. In return, he handed her the mail.

"Have a good day," the mailman said as he turned to leave.

"Thanks, you too!"

The girl---whose name was Jacquie, by the way---closed the door and looked through the mail.

"The Dave tickets must be in the box," she concluded. "I'll wait 'till Mom gets home..." After setting the box aside, she came across an envelope addressed to her.

"I've got mail? That's not from my university? Huh. That's new... I wonder what it is...?"

She opened it and began reading.

"What's this? A subpoena? WTF? I haven't done anything... recently..."

The next thing she knew, she was sitting in a chair in front of a large courtroom.

"Double WTF!" she exclaimed while looking around wide-eyed. "What the hell?"

"Is this the next defendant?"

"Yes, your Honor."

Jacquie looked at the first person who spoke who was sitting near her. She looked up at him in pure confusion.

"Uh, who are you?"

"I'm Harry Stone and I'm the judge for this trial."

"Dude, trial?" she asked, even more confused. "Oh, am I like on Law and Order, or something?! Where's Detective Stabler?!" She then began to quickly survey the people in front of her for one previously-mentioned and very hot detective. Instead, she saw the characters from _Hogan's Heroes_ staring at her.

A brief second passed while it all began to sink in.

"Dude! Oh my God! Hogan's Heroes?! That's even better!" She clapped her hands excitedly and became more comfortable with her surroundings. "Ooohhh, now I get it! It's Fanfic Court! Where's my Wolfgang? ...Wait a minute. Why am I sitting in front of everyone?"

Mason approached the girl. "Would you please state your pen name?"

"My what? Oh, you mean my screen name! Which one?"

"You mean you have more than one?" Harry asked.

"Well, my alias is the ShadowHawk, but sometimes I have to use SapphyreBird when ShadowHawk is taken," Jacquie explained. "So I prefer ShadowHawk, as that one more accurately represents myself... at least, _I_ think it does..."

"Which one do you use for a place by the name of ?" Mason questioned.

"SapphyreBird. Am I testifying?"

"Yes."

"Well, in that case, could you call me ShadowHawk?"

"Why?"

"Because I have an identity crisis. No, not really! I just prefer ShadowHawk; it sounds cooler."

"All right..."

"Yay. You made me happy," ShadowHawk responded. "Now where's Wolfgang? Oh, there he is!" Her eyes fell upon Major Hochstetter and she smiled cheerfully. "Now I'm even happier!"

Mason stared at the girl for a moment before beginning his questioning.

"How long have you been aware of this site?" he asked.

"Oh, ?" she paused and exhaled while she thought. "Um... for a while now... like, somewhere around 5 years or something... Long before I even knew what _Hogan's Heroes_ was!"

"So, how long have you been a fan of the show?"

"Eh... A few years.

"And since that time you've written a few stories, have you not?"

"Yes, I have. I've been writing _Hogan's Heroes_ stories for about 2 and a half years... Yeah, that'd make sense... 'Cuz the first one I posted was about Klink back when he was my favorite character, 'cuz I never got around to writing one when Newkirk was my favorite, which he was, at first, but then it was Klink, and now it's Hochstetter," the girl explained. "It's funny, because I kinda went from a good guy, to a kind of neutral guy, to the bad guy. I always end up liking the bad guy... but I don't know why!"

A lot of people were staring at her now.

"Major Hochstetter's your favorite?" Hogan asked incredulously.

"Uh-huh! For over two years now!" ShadowHawk said proudly.

"Um, getting back to your stories..." Mason started.

"Yeah, what about 'em?"

"Your first one was "For Peace," is that correct?"

"Yeah, because, like I told you, that one's about Klink and I killed him. That's actually the best story I've ever written... The first one I've ever finished, too!" ShadowHawk said with a slight chuckle.

"Look at that! She killed me and now she's laughing about it!" Klink grumbled angrily.

"I'd be laughing, too," Hochstetter replied with a smirk. "I kinda like this girl, even if she's an American."

Riker spoke up. "So you admit that you intentionally killed him?"

Harry looked at him. "Now, while I'm eager to hear her answer to that myself, you'll have to wait your turn, Riker."

"Yes, your Honor."

"What made you want to write such a story?" Mason resumed his questioning.

"Well, actually, one day I was just sitting in my room and I _really_ felt like writing something, so I just started describing a winter scene, and then it just kinda went on from there. And since---at the time---Klink was my favorite, I decided to put him in the story as if he had been transferred to the Russian Front."

"And after that, you moved on to Major Hochstetter."

"Yup!" ShadowHawk grinned proudly and looked at Hochstetter. "I'm your number 1 fan!"

Hochstetter gave her a weak smile, unsure of whether that was a good thing or not.

"Not only have you written a few stories about Major Hochstetter, but you also seem to talk about him a lot in discussions, do you not?"

"Yeah, I talk about him a lot, though I try not to over-do it," the teenager replied. "But often times, I can't help it."

"Why are you so adamant in talking about Hochstetter?"

"Well... Maybe I can try to explain it... When Hochstetter first became my favorite, there wasn't that much out there about him, like story-wise. So, eventually, I started talking on the forums about Hochstetter and about how awesome he is, and started writing stories about him. Now, two years later, I have seen a significant increase in the amount of stories Hochstetter's in, and it makes me happy. So, I guess part of why I do it is to bring awareness to him sorta and help him become a more regular character in fan fictions."

"Thank you, miss ShadowHawk," Mason said as he took his seat. Now it was Riker's turn.

"Now, miss ShadowHawk, you seem quite proud of your Klink story. In fact, I see it has been nominated for an award."

"Yep! I was so excited when I found out!" ShadowHawk grinned. "Completely unexpected! Talk about your nice surprises!"

"So, in a sense, you're proud about murdering Colonel Klink."

"Well, "murder" is kinda harsh, but it's not like I did it without a point!" ShadowHawk responded.

"Would you please clarify this "point" you're talking about."

"Look, Klink's a decent guy, and I'm not trying to argue that here. And he never really did anything so wrong that it would justify him being killed."

"Then you're completely aware that your story was unnecessary and unjust!" Riker exclaimed.

"For one, I resent the fact that you call my story unnecessary! And two, of course I'm aware it's unjust! _That_ was the point! To show the injustice in war! Especially World War II! I wanted the reader to sympathize with the character---who you don't find out is Klink until the very end, by the way---to make the impact all the more powerful! And judging by the reactions I've gotten, I'd say I was somewhat successful." ShadowHawk said defensively. There was some mumbles throughout the courtroom.

"That's pretty deep," Carter was musing, "when you put it that way."

ShadowHawk looked in his direction. "Thank you, Carter. At least someone understands."

Riker grumbled quietly to himself. _There goes that argument... But wait! There's still..._

"Is that the same point you're trying to make with your other story, too, miss ShadowHawk?" Riker asked with a smile.

"Huh? Which other story?" ShadowHawk was still caught up in the heat of her previous explanations, causing all other knowledge to be lost to her, but she didn't really like the way Riker was smiling at her. Besides, Hochstetter was the only man in that courtroom that she was really interested in.

"I believe you called it "A Wolf Trapped in an Eagle's Cage,"" Riker clarified. "You should remember it, seeing how it's about Hochstetter."

Hochstetter's complete attention was focused solely on the girl as realization dawned upon him. "You! You're the one who wrote that?!" he shouted.

"Major! Don't make me have to tell you again," Harry warned. Hochstetter became quiet but didn't stop glowering at ShadowHawk. Riker continued smiling; he was counting on Hochstetter's reactions for his next line of questioning.

"Yes, I am the author of that story." ShadowHawk answered while never once breaking eye contact with Hochstetter. "And, no, that's not the point I'm trying to make with it."

"Then what is?"

Both ShadowHawk and Hochstetter never dropped their intense gaze. A moment passed before she finally spoke up. "It's my way of honoring him."

A unanimous sound of disbelief filled the courtroom.

"Honor?!" Hochstetter sputtered. He rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a long scar running down his arm. "This is your idea of honoring me?!"

Harry was about to apprehend Hochstetter again, but he really couldn't blame the guy for being so upset. He banged his gavel a few times, trying to regain order. The rest of the courtroom was filled with muttering and murmuring.

"Blimey, I'm glad that I'm not 'er favorite anymore!" Newkirk sighed with relief.

"I'm glad that I never _was_ her favorite," Hogan stated. "I have enough to deal with."

"All right, people, settle down," Harry said. After everyone had quieted down, Riker decided to follow up on that shock.

"So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you tore open his arm and torso, had him shot multiple times, had him kidnaped and beaten by the Underground, held captive by Colonel Hogan, and left him alone with the same Underground unit that already tried to kill him that now has a gun, all for the sake of what you call honor," Riker stated.

"Well---" ShadowHawk began.

"Not only that, but you forced a horrible childhood on him, too!" Riker continued.

"Yes, but---" ShadowHawk tried to start again.

"And this is your idea of honor?"

"Are ya gonna let me explain myself, or are ya gonna cut me off again?" ShadowHawk asked. When she was met with only a chilly silence, she continued. "Yeah, I admit that it's a little messed up---"

"A little?" Hochstetter scoffed.

"All right, I'll give ya that, it's quite messed up," ShadowHawk admitted, "But in my mind, it works! I mean, think about it! By putting him through all of that, it kinda forces the reader to see Hochstetter as something other than an inhuman monster hell-bent on Hogan's destruction! As they read, they kinda have to consider the factors that may have shaped who he has become... or became... or whatever..."

"That still doesn't explain how that "honors" me!" Hochstetter growled.

"Well... Let me try to put it another way... I mean, look at all the hell I put you through, and yet you still manage to get through it all. No matter what situation I put you in, you still manage to hang on and survive it. That's how it's honor; I'm honoring your inner strength and resilience, because you never actually die---at least not in that story. You always end up coming out on top! Which is a pleasant thought to me... in more ways than one..."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he stared at the girl seated next to him, praying that no one would decide to venture into that thought.

"You just seem to have an answer for everything, don't you?" Riker asked rhetorically.

"Well, yes, I mean, I've done nothing wrong!" ShadowHawk answered.

"That was a rhetorical question," Riker sighed.

"Oh. Well, then, never mind!"

"I'm done with her," Riker said as he went back to his seat. "But I may wish to recall her later."

"All right, granted. ShadowHawk, you may step down now. You can remain here for the rest of the trial or go back to wherever it was you came from until the verdict comes or you're recalled for more questioning." Harry explained.

"Dude, I think I'm gonna hang out right here!" ShadowHawk replied as she got up from her seat and made her way over to Major Hochstetter. "How many chances am I gonna get to be in the same room as Major Hochstetter? I mean, honestly!" She sat down right next to him, pushing the other Germans out of the way. Hochstetter just glared at her, prompting ShadowHawk to continue rambling after a slight whimper. "Oh, but now he's mad at me! I'm gonna have to make it up to him after I finish crying..." She rested her head on his shoulder and stroked his chest. "Don't worry, though; in my next story you're virtually indestructible and finally get to wreak your ultimate revenge upon Hogan! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"I must admit," Hochstetter began while he turned to face Hogan and smirked, "that does sound rather appealing..."

"Not from over here, it doesn't!" Hogan responded, slightly nervous. To what lengths would this lunatic go to to please Hochstetter? Hogan really didn't want to think about it. He just hoped that she would continue to leave his men alone.

Hochstetter looked back down at the teenager trying to cuddle with his arm. _If I play my cards right, I can get her to do anything I want! _he thought with an evil grin. "I'm still mad at you, though."

"That's okay. I understand," ShadowHawk replied contently as she snuggled with the major's arm.

Harry watched all of this with an uneasy stomach. "At least we'll all already be here when you're tried for sexual harassment."

ShadowHawk looked up, indignant. "I haven't harassed him!"

There was a pause.

"..._Yet!_"

"Call your next witness," Harry said with a grimace.

______________


	11. Linda's unique defense strategy

"The prosecution calls L J Groundwater to the stand."

Hogan grew pale as the murmuring in the courtroom suddenly got louder. Le Beau, astonished, whispered in his ear, "It is a _woman_, _Colonel_!" he said.

Hogan nodded, trembling slightly and not taking his eyes off the female being led to the box beside the judge's bench.

"Do you swear to tell thetruththewholetruthandnothingbutthetruthsohelpyouGod?"

Wide-eyed, L J Groundwater nodded. "I do."

"You may be seated."

Dan Fielding stood up and swaggered toward the witness. A slight curve upwards at the edges of his lips made the heroes wonder what he had against this particular author that he hadn't yet shared with them.

"Miss—Groundwater, is it?"

"Missus," the defendant replied. "Groundwater, yes. Linda."

"A pretty name," Le Beau whispered to Newkirk.

The Englishman rolled his eyes. "Don't fall for this one, Le Beau. She's as good as that Russian was."

"Marya was _always_ good to me! You did not trust her enough," he argued back.

"_Shh!"_ Hogan ordered.

"Married, are you?" Fielding continued. "Interesting. I suppose your husband doesn't know about your _secret life_?"

Linda looked puzzled. "Secret life?"

"I've been looking on the Internet as part of my research for this trial. It seems you were a prostitute in a previous life."

Linda's face turned sour. "That was a show. I do amateur theatre. I have never been a prostitute in real life."

Dan looked disappointed. "Really? You mean you don't get paid to dress like that? Those pictures were pretty uh..."

A cough from the judge brought the prosecutor's mind back into the room. "Dan, is there a reason you're bringing this up?" Harry asked.

"It goes to cause, sir. If she felt one of these men had been unfair to her in, perhaps, a house of ill-repute..."

"I'm sorry, Dan, I can't allow it. Can you stick to the case, please?"

Dan shrugged. "Yes, Your Honor. Linda—I can call you Linda, right?—Linda. Tell me why you write fanfiction."

"I have always written."

"Let me rephrase then: why do you write about _Hogan's Heroes_?"

Linda shrugged. "The original show was so well written, and so well acted, that it was a joy to see those characters come to life. But the show played equally well as a drama and as a comedy. So I suppose I wanted to see the drama come out a little bit more. Not that I haven't written a few humorous bits—lighter bits," she added. "But I'm more about wit than outright guffaws."

"I see. And tell me what makes you do what you do to them."

"I beg your pardon?"

"How do you construct your plots?"

I pull a lot from history, then I try to fill in the holes about how things happened with things that could have been done at Stalag 13."

"Please elaborate."

"Well, there was a lot of intrigue in World War 2, of course, and there were a lot of little things that made a big difference in the war—things that were done by handfuls of people who were willing to make whatever sacrifices were necessary to preserve the sanctity of life and to defeat the Nazis. Since I was blessed with the original set-up of _Hogan's Heroes_, I used the characters that readers know as the basis for these situations—a representative composite of them all, so to speak."

"Can you give me an example of this?" asked Dan.

"Of course," Linda answered. She paused for thought. "I wrote a story about how the Germans used microdots on stamps and envelopes to get information to spies living overseas. In that particular case, I had the stamps delivered into a prison camp, and Hogan—_Colonel_ Hogan—and the men discover their real purpose and alter them."

"For what purpose?"

"So the Krauts couldn't use them. Also, this helped educate the readers about how the microdots were put in place and how they were used."

Dan nodded, seemingly in deep thought, then he turned suddenly to Linda and said, "Isn't it also true that in that very same story, you had Colonel Hogan put into solitary confinement, _and_ sent Colonel Crittendon from the RAF to Stalag 13 to be with the rest of Hogan's men in the interim?"

Linda nodded. "Yes, that's true."

Hogan watched carefully. Fielding was starting to hone in on her now, this woman of eternal evil. She would be scared soon—very soon.

"And isn't it true that this isn't the only thing you've done to Colonel Hogan? Isn't it true that you've had him delivered to the Gestapo, brought to the brink of death, gotten him into a serious car crash, had both him and his men suffer from terrible flu, and even pretend to be blown up?"

Linda nodded again. "Yes."

_Hm,_ thought Hogan, _she's not sweating yet. But she will._

"And isn't it true that you've even had the Colonel and the Frenchman, Le Beau, go into France as it was about to be liberated, at great peril to themselves?"

"Yes, that's true," Linda answered again. Hogan watched for signs that she was breaking, and was upset when he could see none.

"So what do you have to say for yourself?"

"They always made it out," Linda said matter-of-factly. "I don't do character death."

"You don't?"

"No. And I don't do slash, or time travel, or suicide, or Mary Sues, with the single exception of the experiments. But that was done on purpose. And I don't think I was very Sue-like in that." Linda raised her chin almost defiantly. "And I don't deny them women, either. As a matter of fact, there's usually some sort of reward for their good work all around—either friendship and support from each other, or congratulations from London, or time with someone a bit softer. And for the Colonel, that's usually Tiger. So far I haven't heard any complaints about _that_."

Newkirk could have sworn he saw the Colonel blush at that remark.

"But you also put people like Tiger in _danger_, don't you? Not just Colonel Hogan himself, but his men, and people he cares about."

"Wouldn't be much of an adventure story if there wasn't peril in it, would there?" Linda retorted. "'Hogan goes to town. Everything goes dandy. The bad guys lose. Hogan gets the girl. The end.' Snore! What's the point in writing if there's no challenge to the characters?—Look, writing is about conflict and resolution. Putting up barriers and overcoming them. Letting the characters grow. If none of that happens, readers get bored, I've wasted my time, and no one has learned a thing, including the characters, who..." She cut herself off abruptly and looked at her hands in her lap.

"Who..." prompted Dan.

Linda sighed, an almost exasperated sound that worried the Colonel. "Look, Colonel Hogan is a hero. Anything I've ever done to him—and you can read for yourself what I've done; I'm not hiding anything—has been through an act of bravery or heroism. To save his operation or a mission or his men or a member of the Underground. He always comes out on top, but he learns from it. _That's what writing is all about—because then the readers might learn something, too._"

"Mrs. Groundwater, let's get back to the facts. You have had these men tortured—"

"Yes."

"And interrogated."

"Yes."

"And scared to within an inch of their lives."

"Yes."

"And not only have you done it to them, but you have altered—humanized—some very one-dimensional characters, like Colonel Klink, for instance, a man who was anything but heroic, but whom you seemed to make almost noble depending on the circumstances."

"That's right. I think almost all men have potential for nobility. _Almost_," she emphasized with a stern look at Hochstetter.

"You say you have researched this."

"That's correct."

"And that means that your methods of torture have been most accurate."

"As much as I could while staying somewhat PG-rated."

"So you set out to make these men's lives painful and difficult."

"If it helped the audience learn and to advance the story."

"At the expense of what? Of whom? Did you think about no one but yourself?" Dan said accusingly.

Linda thought for a few seconds before answering. "Look, I don't want to seem cold. I love these characters—_all_ of them. But I write fiction. _Fiction_. None of this really happens."

"And is that what you say to the poor beleaguered men who sit in this very courtroom? That what they suffer through at your hands doesn't really happen?"

Linda pursed her lips and looked over toward Hogan and his men. She seemed to be considering her words before saying them aloud. "No," she said finally, softly. "It doesn't really happen because—" She cut herself off, seeming to be unwilling to continue.

"Because?" Dan asked.

Linda remained silent. Hogan leaned forward. Behind him, Hochstetter seemed to rise up higher in his seat to see her more clearly. "Because?" Dan prompted again. "Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to answer the question?"

Harry looked at the reluctant witness. "I'm afraid he's got you on this one," he said with a smile. "You can't leave us hanging like this. It'd be like leaving the next chapter unwritten!"

Linda looked up at Harry and offered him a lopsided smile. "Right," she said. "I _do_ always finish my stories." She looked back at Fielding. "None of these things happen because... because Colonel Hogan and his men, and all the Germans, don't really exist."

The uproar from the gallery was immediate. Hochstetter himself seemed to be the most upset. "Don't really exist? I'll show you whether the Gestapo exists! Bring that woman down here, _schnell_! I want her for questioning of my own..."

"They don't exist?" Dan repeated.

"No," Linda insisted. "I mean, they're here... somehow... But then _you're_ here... somehow. The question then becomes, how the heck did we all manage to be in the same time frame when we're clearly not from the same era? And how did real people get mixed up with characters?"

"Your Honor, irrelevance," Dan said.

"I'll allow it. I'm pretty darned curious about this myself," Harry said.

"Mrs. Groundwater, do you have no remorse about anything you have written? About anything you've done to these men? Do you have anything to say to them?"

Linda's eyes swept the gallery. "I'm just amazed to be seeing them at all... and wondering if I've mixed up my medications."

Dan shook his head. "No further questions. Your witness, Kuzak."

The heroes looked at each other, uncertain about how that had gone. Fielding had definitely done a good job trying to get L J Groundwater to confess to her wrongdoings. But she didn't deny it. And worst of all, she didn't even seem contrite!

A young, dark-haired attorney with chiseled features and eyes that could see right through a person stood up from the defense table. He was well-suited and seemed to be full of quiet confidence. He smiled at Linda, then turned to the court. "Allow me to introduce myself, Your Honor. My name is Michael Kuzak. I normally practice law in Los Angeles, but for this case I felt compelled to come here to New York."

"LA Law, huh?" Harry said with an approving nod. "Bet they do things differently out there." He grinned. "I'm surprised you're not fronting up in your surf gear!"

Kuzak smiled warmly. "No, sir. Surfing's not for me. Cars."

"You may proceed, Mr. Kuzak."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Kuzak turned to his witness. "Good morning, Linda."

"Good morning."

"I won't keep you long this morning. But I'm going to ask you a question that I understand most ladies don't like to answer. Please forgive me in advance."

A smile from the witness. "Certainly."

"What year were you born?"

"1966."

"And so how old are you now?"

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Forty-two."

"That will be all, then, Linda. Thank you so much." Linda nodded as she stood up to step back to the gallery. "The defense would like to call Colonel Hogan to the stand," Kuzak said.

Another ripple of protest from the heroes. Hogan shook his head to silence them and stood up. He thought he knew where this was going, and he wasn't pleased. He was sworn in and then sat down.

"Thank you for indulging me today, Colonel," Kuzak said politely.

"That's all right," Hogan said, sitting back.

"Colonel Hogan, I'm wondering if you'd mind telling the court what year you were born."

Hogan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was a little confused about this matter himself. "What year?" he clarified.

"Yes, sir," Kuzak said.

"I think 1910," Hogan answered.

"You think?"

"Well... it seems to be a bit fuzzy, the old memory, when it comes to that," Hogan admitted.

Kuzak nodded. "I should think so," he agreed with a smile. "Colonel, can you tell me how old you are now, if you're using 1910 as your date of birth?"

Hogan paused. If it really was 2009... but that couldn't be because Commander Riker had done something in the twenty-third—no, was that the twenty-fifth—?... But weren't they still at war? Wasn't he still a young man? And still a Colonel?

"Colonel?" prompted Kuzak.

"Sorry," Hogan said. "Uh... I think I'm thirty-four. Or... thereabouts." He frowned as he considered the problem with his answer.

A problem Kuzak used immediately in his client's favor. "Your Honor, may I point out that it is currently 2009, and that if Colonel Hogan was real, and born in 1910, that he would be 99 years old now. Now, I've known some well-preserved older men in my time, but I promise you that I've _never_ seen a 99 year old man look as good as this man looks right now. Colonel Hogan actually believes himself to be _younger_ than my client, and by all appearances, that could be correct. But that means, Your Honor, that he can't possibly be living according to the principles of this time and space, which means that my client's defense, that these fanfiction characters don't really exist, at least not in the world as _we_ know it, is perfectly plausible."

"The court will agree that there is something funny going on here," Harry replied. "Mac," he said to his court clerk, "would you please remind me to get the _Twilight Zone_ soundtrack out of my quarters before the next session? I have a feeling we're going to need it."

"Yes, sir," is all the man in the sweater said aloud. "This is just _weird_," he muttered to himself.

"My own California driver's license," continued Kuzak, "will tell you that I was born in 1951, and yet I don't look like a fifty-eight year old man."

"That's for sure," came a voice from the gallery.

The attention of the court was redirected, to find out who the outburst had come from. But all they could tell was that it came from within the small sea of fanfiction authors, none of whom seemed to be willing to take ownership of that lustful remark.

Kuzak turned his attention back to the matter at hand, trying to wipe a small, satisfied smile off his face. "The point is, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that my client, despite having written any type of difficult situation for these characters, could not be doing them any permanent damage, as they appear to be able to shift in time almost at will, and change any of their personal details according to which writer is using them, despite their consistency within each writer's own universe. They get older, and younger; they travel from 1945 back to 1942, and sometimes even earlier; they have different families, different backgrounds; they even, as in the case of Corporal Le Beau, have different religions. I submit to you that this, coupled with Colonel Hogan's own lack of certainty about his own self, is sufficient to produce doubt as to the veracity of the prosecution's accusations, and that there is no case to be trying here today, against my client, L J Groundwater, or indeed any other defendant here today."

He smiled at Linda, who couldn't help smiling back. Then he turned back to Hogan, who seemed to be totally lost in thought and confusion on the stand. "Colonel, I have no more questions. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Counselor?" Harry prompted Dan.

"No more questions."

Harry nodded at the Colonel. "Colonel, you may step down. This court is in recess." And the gavel came down in time for lunch.


	12. Hubbles returns

**one quick bit of testimony snuck in before the lunch break**

**The Trial of 96 Hubbles - Part II **

"We about ready to go, Bull?" Judge Harold T. Stone asked as the court filed back in after the lunch break.

"I don't think everyone's back from lunch yet, sir," Bull said.

"Who are we missing?"

"Defence counsel, your honour."

"Well, where is he?"

"Off somewhere singing a duet with Jeanette Macdonald, perhaps," Dan answered for Bull.

"Dan…" Harry started.

"Or possibly untying Little Nell from the railroad tracks," Dan suggested.

"Am I sensing a little jealously here, Counsellor?" Harry asked; he hadn't missed the way the female portion of the audience seemed to flock to Miss Hubbles' attorney. Or at least the female portion of the audience not on trial themselves.

"Your honour, I resent the idea that I could feel threatened by Dudley Dork-right over there," Dan bristled.

"Uh huh…" Harry smiled to himself. "Just can the Mountie jokes anyway, all right?" he added as Constable Fraser strode quickly into the court.

"My apologies your honour, I was helping some people locate the elevator," Fraser explained. Dan shot Harry a look as if to say, "You see?"

"No apologies necessary, Counsellor. Now let's get started. Mr. Prosecutor, if you will…"

"The court calls 96 Hubbles back to the stand," Dan announced. Hubbles retook her place.

"Haven't we pretty much finished with this case, Mr. Prosecutor?" Harry asked. "I thought the charges had been taken care of."

"The court has some new evidence, your honour," Dan explained.

"What new evidence is that?"

"Something called "Challenges", your honour," Dan said.

Hubbles' eyes widened with definite alarm. "Uh oh."

"It seems, your honour, that the defendant is one of the main participants on the Hogan's Heroes Challenges forum. For over two years, a number of the defendants have been engaged in "challenging" each other by offering different ideas of ways on torturing the plaintiffs and encouraging the rest to implement these ideas. This particular defendant's behaviour was especially egregious in that she even gave them cutesy names based on bad puns. "

"Is this true?" Harry asked the defendant.

Hubbles grimaced and noticeably shrank down upon the stand. "Um…"

"Upon the completion of challenges, the perpetrators offered gleeful reviews, congratulations and further suggestions."

"Oh…well…I don't know if I'd say gleeful…" the defendant stammered out.

"Once that was done, the stories were then entered into a special category in a _contest_, where prizes where then offered."

"Am I allowed to plead the fifth?" the defendant whined.

"The court would like to enter the following into evidence, your honour," Dan stated. "Here are some of the challenges issued by the defendant: "The "Strike-Out Challenge" - where the defendant ordered that the plaintiffs MUST NOT be liberated by the Allies. The "Person You'd Least Suspect Challenge" - the requirement on this one is that Colonel Hogan must be hurt by one or more of three specified members of his own team."

Hogan gaped and his stomach began to clench in anticipation. And he'd thought he had nothing to fear from this one.

"Then we have the "Irwin Allen Presents" Challenge. This one encouraged fellow authors to write a large-scale natural disaster happening to the plaintiffs."

"In my own defence, your honour, I did offer a lot of nice challenges!" Hubbles pleaded. "Like the one where I asked readers to explain Kinch's leaving, but where I absolutely _insisted_ he must stay alive."

"Blimey, that's right!" Newkirk cried out and turned on Kinch. "Where the flippin' ell you'd get to if you weren't dead?"

"That's enough, people!" Harry ordered. "Continue, Counsellor."

"Perhaps the defendant can also explain her comments after asking another participant if her sixth story qualified for the "Hogan's Heroes Duck Shoot" Challenge? Let the record state the defendant's exact words were: 'It was fun! Really, really SUPER FUN!!!' Counsel also requests the court take special note of the three exclamation points."

"Can you explain that, Miss Hubbles?" Harry asked.

"Well, I suppose not."

"I guess we like Schadenfreude after all," Harry remarked.

"Oh, like I'm the only one!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What about _your_ writers?" the defendant questioned.

"What do you mean?"

Fraser stood. "Counsel for the defence would like to direct the court's attention to Mr. and Mrs. Bob and June Wheeler, your honour."

"Who are these people?" the court heard Carter ask from gallery.

"Our favourite recurring rural recidivists," Dan answered.

The Wheelers - resembling nothing so much as the more inbred cousins of the characters in 'American Gothic' after being tumbled about in dust bowl whirlwind - rose from their seats in the gallery. "Hello, it's us."

Fraser read from a file supplied to him by his partner Ray: "During their first three appearances in this court, the Wheelers have been subjected to at least two tornadoes (off camera) which robbed them of employment, their home, their pet dog, their hot-dog cart - at the time their sole source of income and coming at the cost of their life savings; been through a hurricane (on-camera); experienced business set backs when their propane-powered incubators caused…uh, poultry to explode; suffered the death of 'Granny' who died when she fell asleep on the railroad tracks; been thrown into denial over the inexpiable disappearance of their daughter Carole-Ann; been tricked into paying their entire $250,000.00 inheritance for the cafeteria news stand in this very building…"

"Enough, Counsellor," Harry groaned.

"But we cherished every moment," Bob Wheeler assured him, his West Virginian/Yugoslavian drawl a'twanging. "It's always a highlight to be brought up in front of you, your honour."

"And once again, the accommodations were magnificent," June Wheeler put in. "The best we've had since our homemade fertilizer caught the bus station where we were sleeping on fire."

"Your honour, the prosecution asks leave to skip over Jonah Hayseed and the missus for now and return to the case at hand?"

"Please, please, do!" Harry pleaded, trying to shake off the touch of corn-fed, grapes of wrath doom the Wheelers always brought with them like a plague.

"Finally there is the "What's That You're Picking Out of Your Teeth?" Challenge."

"Oh, crap and a half!" the defendant moaned.

"A natural result I'm sure would follow later," Dan said.

"Counsellor?"

"The challenge in question involved cannibalism, your honour." The audience gasped. Dan went on, "In fact, one of the defendant's suggestions was Sergeant Schultz 'gets hungry one day.' " The audience groaned further, some stifling cries of horror.

"Can I approach the bench, your honour?" Constable Fraser broke in.

"Finally!" Hubbles cried pathetically.

"Defence would like to make a deal, your honour," Fraser offered.

"What kind of deal?" Harry asked.

"In return for the prosecution dropping the charges, my client will testify for the prosecution."

Harry turned to the prosecution. "What do you think, Dan?"

"The court is willing, your honour."

"Do you agree?" the Judge asked the defendant. The defendant, long past mildly chagrined but not quite at nervous puddle of disheartened ooze, reluctantly acquiesced.

"Sir, defence requests some time to co-ordinate matters with the prosecution."

"Request granted," Harry said. "The witness is temporarily dismissed."


	13. Out to Lunch

_A Lunch Interlude_ by Snooky

(totally unedited by my trusty Beta, Bits and Pieces. Please forgive the mistakes)

Susan, aka Snooky, had spent the morning seated on the right hand side of the courtroom just yards away from Hogan and his fellow prisoners and utterly mortified at her performance on the stand. For someone who was used to dealing with the legal profession, this was an absolute, total embarrassment. _If I only had time to prepare,_ she thought, _and if Mason had done his job and prepped me, I probably wouldn't have made an utter fool of myself. _However, Susan was grateful that her fellow authors, who obviously had some warning, were a little more effective on the stand. She was also glad to see that other than Bits and Pieces' little outburst, none of them were throwing each other under the proverbial bus. Yet….

In order to save her self-respect, Susan decided that since Harry had called a lunch break, it was a good time to waylay Mason and have a little chat. But first she stared in astonishment as Riker disappeared into thin air, obviously back up to the Enterprise. Sighing, she wished she could go with, knowing that Dr. Crusher would be able to fix her backache, hay fever, nearsightedness, farsightedness, and whatever else was wrong with her.

She glanced at the prisoners and thought it looked like Newkirk needed a nice cup of real tea, not the schmate tea as her grandfather used to call it, but real tea. Carter was busy wiping fake blood off of Hogan's jacket and had stopped glaring at her. Hogan and the rest of his posse, as Susan liked to call them, were talking amongst themselves. It looked to her like they were plotting something. Suddenly Hogan turned, stole a quick glance and smiled at her. It was a good thing she was still sitting down, otherwise her knees would have buckled. _Oh brother_, she said to herself, _I'd better find Mason_.

*****

Hogan and his posse had actually been talking about Susan when he flashed a smile at her.

"You know, Colonel, I kind of feel sorry for that bird," Newkirk said. "After all, she really did show some remorse. That's more than you can say for the others."

"C'est vrai, mon Colonel. She seemed really upset that she hurt us. "

"Maybe she really didn't know," Kinch added.

Hogan was still up in the air over whether to forgive this particular author. For the most part, the other ones basically went after him and left the rest of his men alone. But this one…he just shook his head. He didn't know what to think. And then, there was the information about her that he had received from London. Hogan had passed on the names of the authors to London in hopes that their investigators could dig up useful information. Although this woman was fairly new at this fan fiction business, she had quickly and enthusiastically embraced the site and, in fact, with the assistance of another author, had reinvigorated the dormant Papa Bear awards. Now these people were in the middle of voting for the best stories completed in the future year of 2007, a fact that Hogan looked at as pouring salt into the wound, so to speak.

Carter had finished cleaning Hogan's jacket and was now able to join the conversation. "You know, sir, I think it would be a really simple matter to infiltrate the site, kind of like we did the last time, and start messing around with these votes."

"I don't know, sir." Kinch looked uncomfortable. "Something about the idea of messing around with people's votes - it just makes me uneasy."

Hogan decided to hold off on that option for now. "Let's see where this is heading. There are always other things we can try."

************

Riker had beamed back up to the Enterprise and brought Data up to date on the proceedings. He was particularly concerned about Linda's testimony. "She brought up a really good point, Data. The characters do not really exist in real life. So how can you be actually hurting these characters if they're not real? "

"On what grounds?" Data asked. "What are her justifications for saying these characters are not real?"

"What are you getting at, Data?"

"She claims these characters are not real, but are they not suffering? And, it is my understanding that they are self-aware."

Riker's eyes gleamed. "Data, you've just given me an idea." He snapped his fingers. "Do you remember the name of that hologram that ended up on DS9 – you know, the program that kept running? He was a singer, I think."

Data paused for a millisecond. "You are referring to Vic Fontaine. He owned a night club in Las Vegas, in what was then the United States of America circa 1962. He was part of an entertainment package and he was self-aware."

"Yes, that's correct." Riker's wheels were spinning. "He was self-aware, but also interacted with the crew as a friend. But I also remember that some joker messed around with the program and had some gangsters take over the night club."

"That is correct. "

"Data, would it be possible to borrow Vic's program for a while?"

***********

"Mr. Mason." Susan stopped the defense attorney on the way out of the courtroom. "Can I talk to you?

It's really important."

Mason looked like the type of person who would enjoy a nice chat over lunch. After finding a quiet table in the corner of the cafeteria, Susan apologized for her poor performance on the stand. "I'm really sorry, but you know it was a bit of a shock, and honestly, weren't you supposed to prep me?"

"Under normal circumstances, Susan, I would have had plenty of time for prep, but due to the unique nature of the subpoena delivery system, I had no clue who was showing up when."

"Guess I had to be the unlucky one," Susan grumbled.

"Now," Mason asked. "Did you just want to apologize or is there something else you wanted to discuss?"

Susan took a sip of her coffee and gathered up her nerve. "Look, how can I put this? A lot of us weren't thinking. The excuse that it's dramatic and after all, I didn't kill anybody…well, I can't see that convincing a jury; but a lot of us are throwing that out there. I mean, let's say, you go outside and shoot somebody in the leg. Well, it's great if they get better, but you're still liable for shooting the person, aren't you?" Susan stopped and tried to think about how best to put what she was trying to say. "You've gotta think of a better defense; we're still causing harm. And I admit, I'm no better. I pulled the drama nonsense too."

Mason knew darn well that that excuse was not going to hold up in court. He had other ideas, but he was somewhat amused by this woman's attempt to redeem herself. So he continued to listen.

"Now, I said something on the stand that just popped out of me without realizing it. I said I didn't know. Don't you think that that sort of goes along with what Linda said? How could we know that we were causing harm if the characters aren't real?" Susan stopped and waited for Mason's response, not realizing that she had been running her mouth off, just like her favorite punching bag, Carter.

Mason took a deep breath. "Linda's testimony was very effective. I just want to assure you that I'm working on that angle." He patted Susan on the hand. "Don't worry."


End file.
